The Savior Rises (14 page)

She grabbed her makeup and walked over to the Raggedy Ann doll, ripping its head off as she threw the body to the floor. She was done with sentimentality. Did these people really think they could break her? She’d die first. She might even prefer death at this stage.

She looked around her room for what she knew would be the last time, grabbed her wallet, and walked down the hall.

“Is everything ok?” Staci asked from the kitchen doorway. “You seem a little stressed, sweetie?”

Stefani looked at Staci. Her roommate wore her tight little jeans and her preppy tank top, but Staci’s shoes caught her eye. Staci had on crocs. The kind of shoes nurses wear. The little conniving, manipulative…

Stefani walked up to her, balled up her fist, and punched her in the face. Staci fell backwards. Two teeth fell to the ground by her feet as her arms flew back to break her landing. She wailed before she ever even hit the ground.

“If you ever talk to me again, I’ll rip out your heart and feed it to the closest dog I can find. Do we understand each other?”

With that, Stefani turned around, headed out the door, and walked down the stairs. She had left the BMW double parked outside, directly in front of the apartment. She jumped in the driver’s seat, tossing her bag in the back as she hopped in. After a quick trip to the ATM to drain her account, she’d be off to Mexico. She was sure getting lost in Mexico couldn’t be that difficult.

Three days remained until her birthday.  If she were lucky, she could stay hidden for that long, and hopefully all of this would go away. She was exhausted, she wasn’t getting any sleep, and she just wanted it to all to end.

Greg smiled from the sidewalk. He’d chosen well this time. He only hoped he hadn’t chosen too well. Stefani was proving difficult, which was good. The final stage was still under preparation.

Mexico would be a fine setting. It was as good a place as any. If that didn’t work, then he still had one final arrow left in his quiver. If nothing else, this was proving to be a good time.

Stefani had no trouble staying awake. The drive to Mexico was more refreshing than anything had been in the last few days. It was long, but every minute was exhilarating. She pulled off the 805 and headed down the first street she saw. She made a couple of turns and spotted the nightlife. She was a stripper by trade. Finding a good bar to hang out in should come naturally.

The government-issued travel warning for Tijuana meant very little to Stefani. During the last few days, she’d seen more things killed than most people see in a lifetime. At some point, she did think it might be prudent for her to wear a warning sign. “Guys, beware. Hanging out with me could possibly find you dead, very quickly.”

It was well past nightfall when she arrived, and her main goal was to grab some tequila and get roaring drunk. Maybe alcoholics did have the right answer. Maybe drowning your sorrow in a bottle and forgetting your troubles was a viable solution. She’d never been much of a drinker, but she was all about finding out what the draw was.

She sauntered into the first bar she found located off the main drag, grabbed a stool, and realized it was a strip club. Not on the level of The Gold Club where she spent most of her nights before this nightmare began, but a seedy, lowlife strip club where most of the guys needed a bath, and the women were all probably carrying some surprises a decent man wouldn’t want to bring home to the wife.

“Give me a shot of Patrón, please,” she said to the bartender as she slapped a $100 bill on the countertop. The light-brown skinned, mid-sized Mexican guy stared at her for a minute, then grabbed a bottle and a shot glass and set them down in front of her. He palmed the money in his right hand as he mouthed, “Thanks.” She noticed the ends of his brown flannel shirt were black from the grime permanently caked on the bar’s surface.

“Thanks, buddy,” she said as she filled up the shot glass and threw her head back, chugging her first real Mexican beverage.
Damn, that really burns,
she thought as the liquid slowly eased its way down her throat to her waiting stomach. She shot one more and looked at her surroundings.

Her eyes acclimated to the darkened interior, and other than the strippers, she was the only female in the establishment. There were some American boys, kids really, in one corner, and the rest of the place was filled with overweight, middle-aged locals. Most of them stared at her in a way that quickly made her feel more than a little uncomfortable.

Maybe coming to a bar off the main drag wasn’t as smart of a decision as she’d thought. She decided not to pay anyone any attention, turned around, and focused on the bartender. He was a little guy and seemed harmless enough. As she threw down another shot, one of her admirers made the first attempt at getting to know her.

She rejected him easily enough, but other would-be suitors quickly followed. She felt that everyone in the bar was taking a shot. Judging from the talent on the stage, she had no problem understanding why. She didn’t consider it vain to assess she was the best looking woman who would enter the bar that evening or any other evening, for that matter.

“Look buddy, I said I wasn’t interested,” she said not so nicely to one of the construction workers who couldn’t seem to hear “no.” “You seem nice and all, but I am here to get drunk, find a room, and spend the night by myself. Men seem to find a way of ending up dead around me. So, please, go find a dark corner and entertain yourself.”

“You’re not a nice person, miss,” he responded. “You might be better served finding out who you’re speaking to before you talk to me in this manner.”

With that he jammed his balled-up fist into her side, grabbed her by her hair, and slammed her head down, smashing it into the bar. Everything blacked out after that.

Stefani woke up wondering why her head was pounding. The pain was physically debilitating. The throbbing echoed off the walls as she found herself tied to a chair with her hands behind her back. Her shirt was torn and one of her breasts hung out, exposed for all her Mexican friends to see.

“Ahhh, our little gringa wakes up, then. How do you feel, beautiful lady? Are you ready for your surprise?”

The man talking was the same guy she’d rejected right before she blacked out. She could still hear the music blaring in the background. It was the same music at the strip club, so she guessed she was in a back room somewhere. As she looked around, she counted five men. They had this perverted, almost animalistic, hunger in their eyes.

“You will have to trust me when I tell you, that you really don’t want to do this. If you were concerned about me not knowing who you were, trust me when I tell you that you have no idea who I am. You’re about to venture down a road you’ll find ends very painfully.”

She broke off her words as a lightly brown-skinned man with a thick, black mustache started laughing.

He pulled back his hand and smacked her across the face, causing the already gut-busting pain in her head to increase two-fold.  Stefani was growing tired of the game, so she pulled with all her strength on the rope securing her hands, expecting it to bust apart and free her. Nothing happened.

Jesus, where was this super-human strength she knew was hidden inside her? It seemed to come and go of its own accord, and now might be a time where she could use a little help. The Mexican in front of her just laughed harder.

“It appears our little flower here thought she might escape us. Trust me when I tell you this, you sad little woman; you’re about to have a night that you’ll never forget.”

“I might say the same for you,” Greg said as he walked through the door. “I have a personal interest in this young lady, and I’m guessing it might vary from yours. If you kindly let us go, I promise to kill you quickly, otherwise you will be crying like a baby girl before you die.”

Not waiting to respond, the man standing closest to the door swung a bat at Greg’s head. Greg snatched the bat out of the air with his left hand and jammed it back into his would-be assailant’s gut. The Mexican’s partner sitting next to him jumped up at the same time and flashed a knife in his right hand. He buried it in Greg’s gut, but Greg didn’t even feel the impact.

He pulled the knife out, twisted the blade around, and shoved it in his attacker’s chest, kicking him against the wall as the victim drew his final breath.

The other two gang members who had been leaning against the back wall both pulled out handguns and opened fire. One bullet hit Greg in the shoulder. He twisted to the floor, jumped up underneath the man closest to him, and shoved his fist into the man’s jaw. As he did so, he grabbed the gun, flipped it over, and shot the guy standing next to him.

“You see, buddy. I keep my promises.”

As Greg finished his sentence, he shot the leader and pointed the gun toward the man who began the encounter.

“Would you like to live?” he asked calmly.

The guy nodded his head furiously. Greg said, “Then, un-tie her. I think it is about time she and I left.”

He quickly did as instructed, and Greg helped Stefani out of her seat, lifting her up by her shoulder. “Daddy can’t have you getting into trouble he doesn’t approve of, sweetie. You really should be more careful about who you hang out with.”

Stefani wondered if she cared anymore. Maybe she was looking for death. Maybe she no longer thought enough of the sick, tortured life she seemed to be leading. Maybe she lacked the courage to kill herself and hoped somebody would be gracious enough to put her out of her misery.

“You know, we can’t let you take her,” Stefani’s head swiveled around in the direction of the voice. Greg still held her by the arm, pushing her through the door, back into the main part of the bar. The voice had come from one of the American kids she’d seen earlier partying in the corner.

“Really?” Greg responded. “And were you just going to let them have their way with her? Maybe you should have been a little more helpful, and then I wouldn’t have been forced to intervene.”

Greg had been so intent on pulling Stefani out of the back room he’d walked right by this group without even noticing what or who they were. That was unlike him. Again, Stefani had caused him to trip over himself. She was an anomaly for somebody like him, someone who had every step planned out well in advance.

“We would have helped her, but she needed to learn a lesson. We’re thinking you may be in need of a lesson, as well. You’re overstepping your bounds by showing up in this area, Greg.”

Greg knew he wasn’t supposed to change, and there might be grave consequences for his doing so, but he also knew he had no choice. He bent down and within seconds his body grew in stature, his arms bulged, and his leg muscles expanded. As his wings shot out of his shoulders, he felt the first attack. The end of a sword sliced through his left shoulder blade.

He raised his foot up, kicked directly in front of him, and connected with his closest aggressor’s head. He felt the skull bones cave in as the full force of his foot met the side of the boy’s head. The lad fell immediately, dead before his body hit the floor. He knew at least three of the others were gargoyles, as well. Even if they were young, he didn’t want to waste time fighting them.

There was only one who was even close to finishing his transformation.
They all must be very young to take this long to change,
he thought. He pulled his last knife from his belt and threw it, hitting the gargoyle closest to him in the throat. Greg watched him grab his neck as he gargled something meaningless before hitting the floor.

Greg spread his wings, opened them up, and launched himself through the roof, finding his way to the clouds above. He didn’t mind letting them clean up the mess. He had done his fatherly duty. Stefani would be ok for now. He would have his way with her when she returned home. They always return home.
It‘s something bred in them at a young age,
he thought to himself.

Aaron could have chased Greg, but he didn’t know what the point was now. He shifted back to his human form and headed over to Stefani. “Are you ok?” he asked gently. “Why don’t you take a seat over here? Let me help you.”

The rest of the locals in the bar had run out the front door when the gargoyles first revealed their presence. Everyone fled except the bartender. He stared at all of them, his mouth open. He couldn’t comprehend what he had just witnessed. How often do you see human reptiles jumping around your bar?

“Can we get some drinks, please?” Aaron said as he picked up a couple of chairs and turned the table back on its feet. His two buddies hauled their dead friend out the back door where they unceremoniously dropped him in the dumpster.

“Roguls are just not worth the effort,” one of Aaron’s gargoyle friends said as he closed the lid and walked back in.

Aaron gave a quick review of who they were and why they were here. They lived in San Diego and had for almost 40 years. They were young, by gargoyle standards, stayed out of the way most of the time, and spent almost every weekend in Mexico, drinking their lives away. It wasn’t the most ambitious use of their talents, but he really didn’t care.

He vaguely knew Dennis, but almost everyone was aware of Greg. There were very few people who liked him. The guy was a power trip and was on some unknown agenda to find a ring and rule the world. Aaron didn’t really care. He stayed away from any form of politics, human or gargoyle.

What he did care about was having a good time and since there were more than enough dead bodies lying around, it probably made good sense to hit another bar. He knew the local authorities very well and was in no danger of getting in trouble, but he also never wanted to attract much attention. Gargoyles survived on anonymity.

Aaron’s partners decided to call it a night. The one who had taken the knife in his throat was recovering, but he and the other two weren’t up for any more fun. This left Aaron alone with Stefani, and he found this thought appealing. Good friends have a way of sensing when their time has overstepped their welcome.

So, Stefani and Aaron walked for an hour or so, talking about their adventures as Stefani filled him in on her recent escapades. It still sounded so hard to believe as she went from story to story, crying at times when she thought of Dennis and Matt. It didn’t seem fair that any guy who even attempted to get close to her was tortured and killed.

When the night turned into pre-dawn morning, Aaron offered to let Stefani stay in his room. Since she had no plans and nowhere else to go, it seemed a logical solution. They made their way back to his hotel, glancing at the remaining stragglers who littered the streets after a night of partying.

“Some people just don’t know when it is time to go home, do they?”

Aaron laughed as he gently took Stefani’s hand in his own. She tried to think of the last time a guy had gotten close to her like that, and Matt’s face appeared in her thoughts. Matt – the guy who might’ve been her brother.

“I would happen to agree with you, Aaron.” Greg said. The too-drunk-to-walk bum who had ventured within a foot of them turned out not to be a bum at all. But it was well past being too late when Aaron realized this.

Greg’s sword streaked through the air and connected with Aaron’s neck. Only seconds later Greg shoved it through Aaron’s chest, slicing his heart in half. He fell to his knees, his hand reaching instinctively for his throat as his head rolled to rest in the gutter alongside the sidewalk.

“Maybe I didn’t make this perfectly clear, my dear. It’s not acceptable for you to spend the night in another man’s hotel room. You’ll have to be punished for even thinking about it. Do you remember what almost happened with Matt, and he was your brother, for Christ’s sake.”

Greg stood in front of Stefani as her body began to violently shake. Her ability to think receded, and she retreated into the inner recesses of her mind. She didn’t even feel the back of his hand as it hit her again and again, rocking her face backwards. His knuckles were leaving bruises on her cheeks, possibly a black eye. How would she explain this the next day when she went to school? What would her teachers think?