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Evil rides high at the moment of death. Any death. All murder is a sacrifice to the dark side.
"O-K, folks. How do you want this?"
Smith nibbled on a leg of chicken, relishing the crisp crunch of the coating. Done, he paused to lick the grease from his fingers.
Cocking his head to the side, he studied them for a moment. "I'm an artist, you might say." Smith chuckled. "I want you to go out in style." They deserved the honor. That old man, he had guts, a back-bone of steel. Old man Long had pushed his wife behind him and was, get this, bristling at him. No fear at all. Christ, the old guy got guts.
Smith almost laughed with admiration.
That old woman, she was glaring over Long's shoulder, standing on her toes to do it. Man, but she was just like Mom, a real spitfire, right down to her underwear.
"This place OK?" He gestured with the chicken leg at the trees. The blue gums and live oaks were ancient, knurled and proud, covering a low hump of ground. A fitting place to leave this world. "Yeah . . . I like it here." He raised the gun and cracked a worn-out joke that followed the Trade since Cain wasted Able.
"One bullet, I bet. Save the tax-payers a buck, right?" Smiling at his joke, he set the weapon on single shot.
The trigger slid back. Smith felt the glow of excitement rise. It was always like this, no matter how many he did. Next thing he wanted was a woman. There were several available at the place the kid was going. Him and Ainsworthy, they'd share her, like they always did.
"No!"
The bullet slammed Henry against his wife, shattered his spine and exploded her heart. They tumbled to the ground.
The agent spun, face calm, calculating even as the gun was switched to semi-automatic and began exploding slugs at the kid in an effort to slow him. The aspect of demonic possession on the kid's face unnerved Smith to the point it almost made his hands shake.
With a sob of hate, Benny ran by the stump. Benny ripped out the axe. It spun once in a wide circle and left his hands while he was yet fifty feet from Smith. The worn edge crunched between Smith's hard, disbelieving eyes.
"Abomin . . . nation."
Smith tumbled to the ground. Never slowing, Benny darted passed the dying man and kicked the gun out of his hands. Benny skidded to a halt, stumbling to his knees and jumping up. He hovered above them, paralyzed by the sight of their bodied twisted in death.
His head went back in a scream of denial.
Grampa reached down to pull Mandy from the ground. 'Beloved-sister.' He gave her a light kiss on one cheek. Henry jumped up.
'Man, get your greasy mouth off my woman.'
'Hen-rey.' Mandy linked an arm with Henry. She glanced at Benny. 'Sacred-Person . . . ?'
'Ma Eagle is still working on him.' Grampa Waya gave Benny a grumpy look.
'He got a lot of us, on both sides the Veil, looking out for him. Hey, best you two get moving.'
He shot a cold look at the tormenters playing with Smith's spirit, letting it free for a moment, then lunging after it again. In the far distance beyond the Veil of the Sun came a thin, weeping voice, Gramma Smith, weeping for her beloved Josh. Josh shrieked at the sound, one more memory that would torment him through an eternity.
An eagle swept over the sun and the couple was gone.
Falling to his knees beside the twisted bodies, Benny couldn't bring himself to touch them. The massive amounts of blood and shattered bone told him everything he needed to know. He dashed the tears from his face, forcing himself to close their eyes. So much death. He had seen so many die.
Almost, he smiled.
Her hand was clenched in Henry's. Both wore a secret, happy smile, like they knew something the rest of the world could only suspect. Maybe they did. For their sakes, Benny hoped so.
He took out his Grampa Waya's tobacco pouch and sprinkled a fine, shredded cigarette tobacco over them. The Going-Home song echoed through his head, and he hummed it. Now and then a word broke free to join the Longs until he was singing it out loud and rolling a smoke to make a sacrifice for them to the Eagle-Woman.
Blessed Mother
Take them home
a wolf's howl quavered in the watery light of a yellow sun
and a thunderbird carried Her warriors home
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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