My boss, Dr. Demi Diaz, chair of the Psychiatry Department at Miami Jackson Behavioral Hospital, called as I raced west, dodging possum pancakes baking under a blazing sky on the griddle-hot Tamiami Trail. \u201cIna\u2019s grievously damaged by her five-year ordeal, Dr. Panther,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cThus her suicide attempt. It\u2019s my fault. I rescued her too late.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. Six weeks ago you saved her life. But you have to confront your wife with the truth, Jimmy. You\u2019re disappointed her love couldn\u2019t heal your war wounds. And now Ina\u2019s in danger.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow? She was sedated when I left her bedside four hours ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSecurity called Codes Blue, Grey, Black, and Orange. She\u2019s been kidnapped.\u201d<\/p>\n
I nearly swerved into an onrushing police cruiser.<\/p>\n
\u201cBy the cohort who trafficked her,\u201d Demi said, \u201cstarting with her mother, a\/k\/a the Witch, who approved the enterprise. And Ina\u2019s ex-husband who sold her. Amon Rot.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTampa\u2019s chief of police.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Rot\u2019s pharmacist friend, who bought Ina and raped her ad infinitum in his dungeon. Don Olk.\u201d<\/p>\n
I punched the steering wheel.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd the psychopathic neighbor whose romantic advances Ina rebuffed. Annr Ilk.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sneered. \u201cThe Owl. But why?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTo shut her up permanently.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMurder. Where did they take her?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCaptiva Island, to ride out the hurricane. Hustle. Save your wife and my patient.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I snapped awake at the Chokoloskee Island boat launch, then bolted from my car, jumped on Wind\u2014the most powerful airboat in the world\u2014and launched. Under brilliant moonwash, I passed waving sawgrass along the banks of the Lopez River, then plied into Crooked Creek and clouds of seething gnats. Snapping turtles floated like mines in red mangroves. Raccoons, eyes aglow, hid behind bald cypress knobs, reporting my movement through territory to which they held title. Ancient organic stench hung above the murky brown water.<\/p>\n
A half-hour into the trip, the Slow Speed sign appeared. I turned south. After ten minutes, I entered Sunday Bay, a body of water shaped like an equilateral triangle, illuminated by the warm orange glow of Crazy Harold\u2019s Huts set along a white sand beach. Barnacle-encrusted pilings sunk into marl held them above water. Chickee roofs of woven palm fronds staved off sun and rain. On the deck of the command hut was a counter fashioned into a bar, racks of snacks, and a port-a-potty. I killed the engine, tied off, and climbed the ladder.<\/p>\n
In a lawn chair by a plastic cooler, listening to a portable radio from which Gordon Lightfoot bemoaned that the feeling had gone and he just couldn\u2019t get it back, sat Harold Panther, ninety-three years old and the ugliest man in the world. A Chinese grenade tossed his way in Korea claimed his left eye and ear, half his tongue, and much jawbone. A descendant of Seminoles interned as prisoners-of-war in an Egmont Key fortress, Harold sold his crate of medals to tourists to start his moonshine distillery during the Kennedy administration.<\/p>\n
And he was my everything. Shortly before I was born, my father, a descendant of Chiricahua interned in Pensacola who escaped, ran south, and mingled with the Seminole, took a panther for ceremonial purposes. The game warden dismissed his Native sovereignty defense. My father, who\u2019d raped me into Harold\u2019s daughter, killed four deputies before he was subdued. The State of Florida fried him a week before my first birthday. One year later, barbiturates, vodka, and a razor claimed my mother. She left no note.<\/p>\n
I fished a Red Stripe from the cooler, popped the top, and handed it Harold, apologizing for my tardiness.<\/p>\n
He scoffed. \u201cAin\u2019t no time at tha origin. Glad ya here.\u201d He lip-pointed east. \u201cKiller storm comin. Nineteen hour off.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know. I came to get you. And I need your help.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNah. Ya fine by ya self. Ina however. She been kidnap.\u201d He guzzled his brew.<\/p>\n
I thought I\u2019d dreamt it in a driving-induced microsleep. My heart lurched. My vision swam.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome as a shock, eh? Figgered.\u201d Harold crushed the can one-handed. \u201cJust do same ya did on tha playground when ya whipped tha asses a that gang attackin her on tha monkey bars.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUncle, Ina and I were nine then. I gave up violence long ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHa! Say tha man got hisself covered in ribbons fa what he did in tha war.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve changed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cChange back. Them folks what hurt Ina afore ya come back inta her life need killin.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLook where killing got my dad. I just want peace.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShit. Peace only come when tha fightin\u2019s done. N ya so fuckin good at fightin.\u201d<\/p>\n
I said nothing.<\/p>\n
Harold spat. \u201cBut if ya want out, just take off runnin n never come back. Find a cosmic fuckin rationale ta dodge ya duty.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLike as a psychiatrist I\u2019m supposed to help people, not hurt them?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPsychiatrist don\u2019t mean shit in tha real world. N Hippocrates can fuck hisself. Ya gotta hurt some ta hep others. Ina n ya unborn. Creator asking who matter ta ya, n who in fuck are ya?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo this is all a test?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYep. N all ya can do is fill in bubbles as problems come at ya. Creator\u2019ll tally up ya score.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t believe in ghost stories,\u201d I lied. Lightning flickered.<\/p>\n
\u201cHa!\u201d Harold smacked an adjacent chair, then hawked into the creek. A catfish burst from the murky water to vacuum his sputum. Harold laughed into paroxysms and went blue.<\/p>\n
I jumped up to assist.<\/p>\n
He pushed me off, then launched into some old fable. \u201cWay back, tha Chiricahua was threaten by Monsters.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know the origin story, Uncle. Child-of-Water slew Buffalo, Eagle, Antelope, then Elk.\u201d<\/p>\n
His glare withered me. \u201cMonsters I\u2019m talkin bout, accordin to ya daddy,\u201d he continued, \u201cwas Evil Ones killin Chiricahua in tha Chiricahua Mountains. Spaniards prolly. Seventeen century. An a diyyin begged Usen ta hep.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA Chiricahua medicine leader.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUsen say run quick. Get on tha tallest mountain. So Chiricahua sit three days n nights n no water. Day four, Wind blow out tha West. Lightning slash out tha North. Thunder barrel out tha East. Sun rise out tha South. Then Sun, Wind, Thunder, n Lightnin hug n shout \u2018Hookah!\u2019<\/p>\n
\u201cTranslated, \u2018Let\u2019s go!\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey join arms n spin counterclockways, eh? Then they rotate arms n charge, suckin Water off Ocean. Black Cloud wrap em up n they fly over Nde benah.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLand of the People.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMmm. As Black Cloud sail cross Sky, Day become Night. Water is seethin white foam. Chaos everwhere. When Sun, Wind, Thunder, n Lightnin arrive, too late fa Evil Ones ta climb.\u201d<\/p>\n
I was riveted.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen Sun depart. Black Cloud thicken. Evil Ones run but Wind blow four direction. Chiricahua start singin Wind Song.\u201d He sang the old words: Let it be well, my brother Wind. Blow wide. Continue in a good way. Do not harm your poor people but do your duty against the Evil Ones.<\/p>\n
I was transfixed.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen Wind blow down tha Evil One, wrench em limb ta limb, n toss corpses. But no Chiricahua hurt. Now Lightnin strike out four direction. So Chiricahua sing Lightnin Song.\u201d And so did Harold. Let it be well, my brother Lightning. Strike high. Continue in a good way. Do not harm your poor people but do your duty against the Evil Ones.<\/p>\n
Something stirred in me.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen Lightnin burn Evil Ones ta ash,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cWere any Chiricahua hurt, Uncle?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNah. So Thunder boom out four direction, n Chiricahua sing Thunder Song.\u201d As did he: Let it be well, my brother Thunder. Clap all around us. Continue in a good way. Do not harm your poor people but do you duty against the Evil Ones.<\/p>\n
I felt Power.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen Thunder boom, Jimbo, blowin Evil Ones ta bits.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut leaving the Chiricahua unmolested?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMan, woman, child. Then Child-a-Water return to earth. In a shirt a abalone. Chiricahua sing Child-a-Water Song.\u201d And he repeated it:\u00a0 Let it be well, Child-of-Water. Wash all around us. Continue in a good way. Do not harm your poor people but do your duty against the Evil Ones. \u201cSo Child-a-Water unleash deluge,\u201d he said. \u201cEvil Ones drown. Nde benah purified. Chiricahua saved. You trackin?\u201d<\/p>\n
I twitched in anticipation but shrugged.<\/p>\n
Harold spat. \u201cAll ya see\u2019s an old man flappin lips, eh? I ain\u2019t inspired ya. Well, listen up. Ya own Evil Ones is pressin ya. N a storm comin. History repeats herself.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lightning flashed. \u201cUncle, please sing again.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYa know who ya are now?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think I always have.\u201d<\/p>\n
We sang together until I knew the songs better than Ina\u2019s face. Harold abruptly quit mid-verse. \u201cTime ta rescue Ina. She in tha Witch compound. Got two floor. Like a igloo made a titanium legos two foot thick. N they\u2019s a giant steel safe upstairs.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA sealed panic room with its own generators and oxygen so you can survive a hurricane?\u201d<\/p>\n
Harold grunted. \u201cLeast tha front half. TEvil Ones gone be inside. Panickin.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood. How do I open the door?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust wish it so. Sun ain\u2019t risin today. Don\u2019t got no three days ta wait. Wind\u2019ll get ya there and back with Ina aboard. Hustle.\u201d<\/p>\n
*?*?*<\/p>\n
I was one with the hurricane, pure of arms. We grew deadlier even as we rode up onto the beach dragging foam and chaos behind, scouring Captiva Island clean down to the coral save for the compound. Wind’s bow stopped before a gaping maw in the compound where we\u2019d wrenched away sliding glass doors, casements, and shutters. Orion shone. Mars reigned.<\/p>\n
I clambered over the gunwale and ran inside. Two feet of water filled the first floor, but none cascaded from the second. Upstairs windows were intact. I felt my way up the central staircase and found Ina nude in the corner of an open room. Her jaw smashed. Her face flattened. Her eyes glazed and sightless. A sharp effusion of crimson and the remainder of our unborn child coagulated on the tile. I checked her pulse but she was cool and stiffening.<\/p>\n
I tore out my hair, laid on the floor, held her, and bawled. Hours passed before I could say goodbye to all that had tethered me to this world.<\/p>\n
Then my true nature returned at a gallop. Time slowed, compressed, stopped.<\/p>\n
I rose and gathered myself. The backup generator kicked in. Eerie bloodred emergency lights flicked on along the second-floor ceiling. I hustled to the panic room and willed the door open.<\/p>\n
The circular portal, ten feet of chromium steel across, pivoted.<\/p>\n
The pale white faces of the Evil Ones stared back at me.<\/p>\n
The Owl\u2014a short round greasy woman\u2014screamed. She wore jeans, a flannel, duckboots, a necklace of little metal birds of Minerva, and mouse blond hair under a red bandana.<\/p>\n
I greeted the four. \u201cWhat a foul assemblage. Justice mandates consequences for bad acts.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Witch\u2014a rotund septuagenarian\u2014grabbed the Owl\u2019s hand. The wicked sisters ran to the rear of the wedge-shaped room.<\/p>\n
Don, the pharmacist, chased after them.<\/p>\n
Rot, with an arrogant sneer, folded teeth, and slouched shoulders, jiggered an interior panel.<\/p>\n
The door swung shut.<\/p>\n
I willed it open again.<\/p>\n
Rot jumped forward, pistol in hand, and fired.<\/p>\n
I jerked sideways.<\/p>\n
Rot fired again and again, emptying the magazine.<\/p>\n
I dodged all his bullets.<\/p>\n
\u201cI sent a BOLO before the storm arrived, Jimmy,\u201d Rot shouted from the rear of the panic room. \u201cWhen they catch you, you\u2019ll die in Old Sparky like your daddy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWrong. I\u2019m immortal.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey said you were crazy!\u201d Rot yelled. \u201cEven for a shrink! SWAT will here in twenty minutes!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWrong, Chief. The roads are underwater. Powerlines hang like spaghetti. Your goons won\u2019t beat the back half of the storm.\u201d<\/p>\n
The truth sunk into Rot. \u201cLet\u2019s talk, Dr. Panther.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDr. Panther\u2019s absent. Child-of-Water\u2019s here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe have money,\u201d he offered, oblivious to who I was. \u201cI mean Ina\u2019s mother can get it. Let us go and I won\u2019t file charges,\u201d he offered as if to sweeten things. \u201cAfterward, complete disengagement. Just take the money.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNah. All the world\u2019s cash is pennies on the dollar you owe Ina. You\u2019ll pay for your transgressions in flesh. You each owe Ina a death. I\u2019m here to collect.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy you?\u201d the Owl simpered.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause of my provenance. You executed horrid crimes against my people. Kidnapping. Rape. Murder. Let\u2019s talk order of operations. I\u2019ll attend you sequentially. Choose the order yourselves, or I will. You get five minutes to palaver. Hookah. Let\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat gives you the right?\u201d the Witch snarled, still haughty and unresigned to her fate.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was created for this.\u201d<\/p>\n
Downstairs, I found a floating bucket containing dark grouting paste.<\/p>\n
Upstairs, I fingerpainted. On one wall, I made the Chiricahua symbol for Sun. One another, the symbol for Cloud. On a third, the symbol for Wind. On a fourth, Lightning. On the ceiling I painted Water, Stars, Water, and Sun, finishing the epic cycle. Time for the blood sacrifice.<\/p>\n
I went to the panic room and opened the door. \u201cIt\u2019s time, you Evil Ones. Who\u2019s on first?\u201d<\/p>\n
Rot tossed the Owl tumbling through the door.<\/p>\n
I cracked knuckles. \u201cGreetings, Owl.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes were glassy. I doubt she heard me.<\/p>\n
\u201cIn the Divine Comedy,\u201d I lectured, \u201cDante Alighieri outlines punishment for Hypocrites. Those who feign virtue yet are in fact wicked liars. Have you read it?\u201d<\/p>\n
She wouldn\u2019t or couldn\u2019t speak. Fear has that effect.<\/p>\n
I dragged her downstairs and onto the beach and resumed. \u201cIn serious cases, Hypocrites were whipped, their eyes were burnt out, and, decked in leaden robes, they were flung into the sea.\u201d<\/p>\n
Life crept back into the Owl. \u201cI d-don\u2019t d-deserve this.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo? Unrequited love is toxic. If you\u2019d let it go rather than conspiring to have Ina trafficked and raped, you\u2019d be safe abed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIna\u2019s a liar. And I didn\u2019t rape her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut you did, vicariously. You brokered an oxy for rape scheme between Ina\u2019s addict ex-husband, the chief of police, and your childhood pal, Don the pharmacist. Then you cloaked it in the narrative Don was crazy Ina\u2019s caretaker. Then you secured the approval of Ina\u2019s mother, a severe antisocial personality who\u2019s hated Ina from the moment she was born. Even if Ina had been able to escape without my help, who\u2019d have believed her tale? Your agglomeration of evil was the perfect insurance policy to get all your needs met.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon and Rot ran the whole thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019ll get what\u2019s coming to them too. Everyone does eventually.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you hadn\u2019t come along, none of this would be happening. Let me go, asshole.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere? The island will be under twenty feet of water in forty minutes. The compound has structural damage. It won\u2019t survive the second half. You\u2019re all dying today. Only question is how.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Owl screwed up her face. \u201cIna deserved to be raped!\u201d<\/p>\n
I grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the ocean\u2019s lip.<\/p>\n
The far side of the eye was visible. Thick, boiling, angry clouds.<\/p>\n
I pinched her nose, grabbed her tongue with pliers, and sliced it out.<\/p>\n
She babbled nonsensically, but at last spoke truth.<\/p>\n
I pulled weight belts from a compartment on Wind, affixed them around her neck and knocking knees, then rolled her face down, dragged her to sea, and released her\/<\/p>\n
I ran for the compound. Halfway there, I snuck a look.<\/p>\n
Dorsal fins whirred explosively, cycling a bloodred gyre in the water.<\/p>\n
I grabbed a line, then ran to the kitchen. In the detritus of shattered cabinets I dug up a garbage bag. I shoveled ice from the freezer bin with my hands until the bag was half-full, then ran upstairs, found an office chair, wheeled it to the panic room, and opened the door.<\/p>\n
Rot, the Witch, and Don cowered in a state of fear-induced helplessness.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho\u2019s next?\u201d I barked.<\/p>\n
No one uttered a sound.<\/p>\n
\u201cIn ten seconds I\u2019m coming in, kids. Last chance for democracy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rot twisted the Witch\u2019s arm behind her back and bulldozed her out the circle and under the bloodred lights.<\/p>\n
I pushed the Witch to the staircase, tossed her over my shoulder, and kicked the chair clattering downstairs. Then I dragged her by the collar into the kitchen.<\/p>\n
She glowered like a possessed eagle pursuing the panther that ate her eaglets. \u201cHow dare you burst into my home uninvited and behave this way?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m here on a mission to rescue my wife and kill you all.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIna needed no rescue. I told you\u2014she lies.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAs she did when she came to you and reported your husband for raping her in childhood?\u201d<\/p>\n
The Witch glimmered with glee. \u201cIna\u2019s always been a drama queen. Don was her caretaker. And a doctor,\u201d she dissembled stubbornly.<\/p>\n
I grabbed the ice bag and cut the rope to the proper length. \u201cWrong,\u201d I said. \u201cDon was a Walmart pharmacist who tortured and raped her at your behest. Now he\u2019s my prisoner.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes blazed. \u201cDon did what he could. Ina lost her mind when Amon rejected her like every other man has.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWrong, Ina filed to divorce Amon five years ago because he planned to sell her to Don with your approval. And I didn\u2019t reject her. You did. Now your daughter\u2019s dead.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Witch harumphed. \u201cLet Don go this instant.\u201d<\/p>\n
I shook my head in disbelief. \u201cI repeat: Ina\u2019s dead. And her unborn baby too.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Witch\u2019s eyes slitted. \u201cGood. The thought of a half-breed baby sickens me. Ina brought everything on herself.\u201d<\/p>\n
I gnashed my teeth. \u201cYou call yourself a Christian. Do you believe in hell?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCertainly. That\u2019s where you\u2019re going.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen I\u2019ll give you a thirty-minute head start. Fire or ice?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhatever do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou denied choice to Ina. I\u2019m more generous. You get to pick how you\u2019ll die.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Witch tried to kill me with her eyes. \u201cYou\u2019re evil, James Panther.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cChild-of-Water.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you hadn\u2019t come along, none of this would be happening.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo I\u2019ve heard. Time\u2019s up. Ice will suffice.\u201d I tied the bag with two loops of rope around her neck. She went into shock. I pushed her outside to face the storm\u2019s wrath. Two down. Two to go.<\/p>\n
From my boat, I took hammer, nails, pyro putty, and a lighter.<\/p>\n
Back inside, I found a bathroom, tapped drywall to find a hollow space, kicked, and pulled two four-by-six boards each ten feet long.<\/p>\n
Outside, I nailed them together, laid the cross on the sand, and dug a pit by the incoming tide.<\/p>\n
*?*?*<\/p>\n
The panic room door swung out. Rot and Don rushed me.<\/p>\n
Rot tried to dart past on my right. I clotheslined him. A wet thwap of meat against meat as he went down, larynx bruised, writhing.<\/p>\n
I turned on Don. He was an inch or two shorter than I. Rangy, with a carpet of graying hair on his visible body. He stunk of rotten gym shoes, sewage, and offal, and pulsed with the energy of an admixture of evils from a dreadful place beyond the grave. I twitched in anticipation of the kill.<\/p>\n
But before I closed the distance, Don zipped back into the panic room. The door closed.<\/p>\n
So Rot would be third. I tied rope around his ankle and dragged him downstairs. His head hit every cement step.<\/p>\n
At the cross on the beach, I dropped the rope and knelt. He was groggy. When he took in the cross and its accoutrement, he struggled lamely to rise.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou won\u2019t get away with this, Panther,\u201d he said, mindless of the cliche.<\/p>\n
\u201cChild-of-Water.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re crazy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re all as crazy as hell. What defines us is whether we channel insanity for good or ill. It\u2019s a sequence, Rot. The Owl died as Black Cloud blocked the Sun. Wind will gather sand and flay the Witch from her bones. Lightning is your terminus. For Don, Water. First, I have questions. Why did you marry Ina?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTo pass and have kids.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy let her go?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was useless after popping the second kid. Lavender marriages suck. I did it for my mother.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy not get an amicable divorce instead of trafficking her?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s opportunity in every crisis. And I always hated her.\u201d He put a hand on his head as if it was the cap of an electric chair, then pulled back his eyelids with his fingertips, mocking my father who, like Rot, had had it coming. \u201cDipshit,\u201d he branded me. \u201cEgg-bearers are everywhere. What do you see in Crazy Ina?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe wasn\u2019t crazy. She was traumatized from five years in your rape camp. Now she\u2019s dead.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rot smirked. \u201cWe all do whatever we can get away with. Take it up with Don.\u201d<\/p>\n
I punched him unconscious, rolled him onto the cross, grabbed his left hand, stretched his arm, centered a nail between radius and ulna, then swung the hammer. Nail pierced joint. Blood spurted. I repeated the process. Once his arms were affixed to the crossbar, I pulled his legs straight and drove a nail between the metatarsals of each foot. Then I lifted the cross and dragged the top of the beam into the pit. Rot was crucified upside down, feet pointed skyward. I drew my knife, sliced the flesh under his ribcage, and let his viscera, under the influence of gravity, spill onto the sand.<\/p>\n
Rot never got the chance to scream. I arranged pyro putty under his head, but before I could flick the lighter, ZZZZZZZZZZ!<\/p>\n
Lightning had struck. I was as if I\u2019d flown too close to the sun. I was unscathed, but Rot was charred to cinders. His reeking remainder, pushed by a sudden puff of wind, toppled to the sand.<\/p>\n
Embers glowed. Sparks flew.<\/p>\n
Wind pelted the unconscious Witch and dispersed Rot\u2019s ashes. Three down.<\/p>\n
But the apotheosis of evil remained. For Don, it would be full Hammurabi.<\/p>\n
*?*?*<\/p>\n
I stood arms outstretched, legs wide, in the circular opening of the panic room, waiting for the panic to fully bloom.<\/p>\n
After a while, Don, blubbering, spoke to fill the terrifying void. \u201cS-s-say something!!\u201d<\/p>\n
I said nothing.<\/p>\n
He began a silent rash of shuddering sobs.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou and I cannot both live on this earth,\u201d I explained after a while.<\/p>\n
\u201cP-please,\u201d he begged. \u201cS-Spare m-my l-life.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCan\u2019t. I\u2019m obliged to take it from you as you use it so badly.\u201d<\/p>\n
He sank to his haunches and hiss-whispered. You\u2019re no killer. You\u2019re too good a person to do this.<\/p>\n
\u201cWrong. I\u2019m the cruelest most unforgiving creature ever sung into being. You should know that. You\u2019re my Creator.\u201d I went in and knelt next to him.<\/p>\n
His eyes were a blend of lichens, bile, and infected mucus. He was big and strong enough to terrify any woman, but his prime malignancy was immaterial, extraordinary, and from eons past. The menace and venom instantiating him were distilled from ancient atavisms buried so deep beneath the sea of humanity that in just one in ten million births did they ooze to the surface.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou,\u201d I told him, \u201cshould never have done what you did to a woman with a husband as good at killing as I am.\u201d<\/p>\n
He sobbed. \u201cP-p-please d-don\u2019t k-kill m-me.\u201d His bowels evacuated. Urine dripped down his leg and puddled. The room took on a barnyard tang. He held out his hands as if to embrace.<\/p>\n
\u201cI have to, Don. It\u2019s my reason for being.\u201d<\/p>\n
Don hoot-panted like a chimpanzee, then issued a hideous moan halfway between foghorn and yoga chant. Then he stutter-whispered, calling me a brute and an ogre. Then he went catatonic.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou thought Ina was the perfect victim,\u201d I said. \u201cNo husband to rescue her. No family. No friends. Prior rape history. On the autism spectrum and unable to get help. Nod yes. Shake no.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded and sobbed.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you thought yourself safe to run your rape camp until you killed her. Today, you did. I\u2019m curious. If you\u2019d known of me, would you have behaved differently?\u201d<\/p>\n
He hesitated, then slowly peeled back his lips into a smirk as if work was done and it was party time. \u201cNever,\u201d he hissed. \u201cIna wrote you years ago.\u201d He was wooden and eerie. Something had awakened. \u201cBut you did nothing. Years passed without a phone call or email. Nod yes. Shake no.\u201d<\/p>\n
He\u2019d turned the tables. I nodded despite myself.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo one gave a shit. Including you,\u201d he taunted. \u201cWhen you showed faint flickers of interest but blew her off, we thought you a coward. Or homosexual. Or both. Your neglect bought time for me to ruin Ina for all other men.\u201d He spoke calmly, with perfect diction.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve heard and read about your deeds.\u201d<\/p>\n
He grinned. \u201cBut you had to be there to appreciate them. And her wails. Her screams. Her blood. Did you know, in the adjacent room, I raped her for the three hundredth time? What a milestone. I counted. Carefully. And I\u2019ve tortured and raped many others.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re a monster.\u201d<\/p>\n
He beamed. \u201cI worked hard to merit that distinction. Thanks. Do you know, I believe I raped your child out of Ina entirely?\u201d<\/p>\n
Outside, the roar of a diesel train engine from hell deepened in pitch.<\/p>\n
\u201cRelax,\u201d he said. \u201cThe abortion\u2019s free. As a pharmacist, I\u2019m part of your medical family. Give us a kiss, Jimmy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Something broke inside me. \u201cAre those the eyes that first saw Ina?\u201d<\/p>\n
He grinned. \u201cAs God beholds a sinning whore.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid those teeth scar her?\u201d<\/p>\n
He clapped in glee. \u201cYou\u2019ve seen my work? I\u2019m a body artist among my many talents.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhich hand grabbed Ina\u2019s throat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBoth. Her hyoid nearly snapped.\u201d<\/p>\n
I pointed to his ears. \u201cThose heard her screams?<\/p>\n
\u201cIna has excellent theatrical pitch.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs that the nose that smelled her perfume?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd her fear. The signature scents of my home until you stole my luxurious plaything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPull out your cock.\u201d<\/p>\n
He did. \u201cNow suck it.\u201d<\/p>\n
I ignored the goad and pointed to the little flesh nub. \u201cIs that what you used to rape Ina?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDeep in her triune holes, including her asshole, asshole.\u201d<\/p>\n
I unsheathed my knife and held it by the tip.<\/p>\n
He beheld the blade and sniggered.<\/p>\n
\u201cTake it,\u201d I insisted, \u201cand drag the razor edge across your wrists. It\u2019s easier than what I\u2019ve prepared for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
He laughed. \u201cLike you didn\u2019t let the other three go.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe back half of the hurricane will be on us any minute. Where do you think your colleagues went?\u201d<\/p>\n
He shrugged. \u201cA car. A boat. You\u2019re just trying to scare me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow do you want it? Blood loss? Drowning? Both?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at the blade as if it were his next victim, laid the fingers of his good hand on the handle, then hesitated.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome on, Don. Dispatch me and walk free.\u201d<\/p>\n
His hand fell to his lap. \u201cFor maybe ten minutes, until the second half of the storm arrives.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe five. But the pain would be less. Otherwise the interval to come will be hard for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
He smiled. \u201cI\u2019ll ride it out in here just fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe compound won\u2019t survive the back half of the hurricane. Kill yourself, or I\u2019m going to waltz you through a wonderland worse than death.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t. You\u2019re a pussy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWant to bet?\u201d I slapped the knife into his hand.<\/p>\n
He dropped the blade.<\/p>\n
I looped a noose around his neck and jerked him up.<\/p>\n
He shrieked. \u201cWHAT ARE YOU DOING?!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cExecuting the ancient law of man.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOH! I\u2019M SORRY! OH GOD! PLEASE FORGIVE ME!\u201d<\/p>\n
I sliced off his ear. The tissue separated as a lettuce leaf peels from the head.<\/p>\n
He skirled in agony then prayed. \u201cHail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and…\u201d<\/p>\n
I sliced off his other ear, then kicked him wall-to-wall. \u201cAdmit you like this and I\u2019ll stop.\u201d<\/p>\n
Don went frantic. \u201cHoly Mary mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
I removed his nose. A bloody mucilaginous slime ran hot and wet down his face and garbled his words. I pummeled his face. Bones cracked. He puked, then wore a death mask. I kept on, went deaf to the sounds he made, and hammered out teeth. Two stuck in my hand. I flicked them away then stuck my blade a quarter-inch through his eyelids.<\/p>\n
Clear fluid leaked onto his cheeks.<\/p>\n
I hacked off both index fingers and tossed them behind me.<\/p>\n
He keened and wailed. My very own banshee.<\/p>\n
I sawed off his penis and testicles.<\/p>\n
He bled front and back and moaned like a dying cow.<\/p>\n
I bit his back to shreds, then dragged him downstairs. I sharpened a closet pole into a spear, then dragged him onto the sand near Rot\u2019s crucifixion.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you ready for the finale?\u201d I asked the final Monster.<\/p>\n
No response.<\/p>\n
Water reclaimed the seabed. Earth shook. Wind flung sand, abrading flesh from the Witch\u2019s bones. Lightning slashed cloud-to-cloud. My hair stood. I smelled ozone. Balls of blue flame rolled from south to north, trailing fire with their passage. Inside the onrushing eyewall, flames crackled.<\/p>\n
I inserted my spear in Don\u2019s anus, rammed until two feet disappeared, then dragged him until the blunt spear end slid into the pit and set him upright. He made not a sound.<\/p>\n
Water rushed higher until he was submerged, then gone.<\/p>\n
It was done. The cycle was complete.<\/p>\n
But I\u2019d failed. Chiricahua had died and I wanted to join them.<\/p>\n
I ran back upstairs and waited for the end with Ina.<\/p>\n
But the hurricane abated. Stars came out. After a while, the sun rose.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlways been a gap between story n practice,\u201d I heard Harold say from far off. \u201cKid, ya know who ya are now n ya done what ya could. Proud a ya.\u201d<\/p>\n
Gripping that razor-sharp sawgrass stalk hard enough to draw blood, I sang Ina into Wind and back to Harold. That night, sadder and wiser, singing of Sun, Cloud, Wind, Lightning, and Water, we buried her where white men will never go and Creator will never tell.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
That night, sadder and wiser, singing of Sun, Cloud, Wind, Lightning, and Water, we buried Ina where white men will never go and Creator will never tell.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":182,"featured_media":22468,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-21911","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","writer-tommy-cheis"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21911","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/182"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=21911"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21911\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22469,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21911\/revisions\/22469"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/22468"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=21911"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=21911"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=21911"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}