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With the demon raging in him, the shon:gili fed on the dog. When he had taken all the stringy flesh he
could gnaw from the carcass, he got up and began to run. Philadelphia was close.
Already they were moving passed fortified enclaves. The reek of manure was
strong, as were the stench of raw sewerage and the murky odor of sludge from
methane digesters.
I shall punish thee,
dog, the demon said, his voice whispered a wraith. Disobedient slave. Foul creature, but thou salt suffer. I will make thee
kill the Wolf’s brat one slow stroke at a time. He will plead and beg thee for
death.
In the cringing shon:gili,
Carl shuddered. They were getting close now. The demon knew where Benny was, and
Carl wanted to weep in the horror of killing his stepson.
Dressed in light-absorbing black cloth, the Emperor’s agent
waited outside the row house. The kid the Janissary Project was so hungry for
and, oh, so secretive about, was finally asleep. Chong was staring at a shielded
unit on his wrist.
He tapped the watch to send the information to the
ambassadorial palace. The old woman that was his immediate superior sent him an
email. Riko San was currently employed as a washerwoman, a scrubber of floors
and boot polisher of powerful men. Her rank was such even the Emperor bent an
ear to her advice.
Washington, DC, was nearly empty at this time of year. A few
odds and ends of congressmen pretending they held a little power.
Europe was where the real power lay. He frowned. Los Angeles
no longer mattered. Too bad, but the gentlemen in Paris decided the people were
getting too obnoxious. The actors were fled, and the money people chasing off
after them to places like Aspen and Winter Park. Anyone that had the hundred
credits to drop a little incense to the President. Only the lower classes
remained, and those in China Town. The walls of the city were closed and the
water turned off for a few days. Already twenty thousand rotted in a newer
version of the pandemic.
He tapped the watch. Their agents in East and South LA would
have also died, but how glorious, to die for the emperor.
Ah, but that boy. What a terrible power.
Shaking his head, he read the waves of energy roaring from
the boy. He was asleep, and the shock wave was enough to shoot the tiny meter
into the danger zone.
Stepping away from the wall, he gave the boy a slight bow.
When the Emperor possessed Benny, there would be no more
foolishness. No more talk of the Lord of Heaven making concessions to those smug
gentlemen from Paris.
He slid away, stepping over a dead rat with a wince. The
pandemic was still killing animals. Few children yet survived when it attached
them.
Yet, how odd, the children of peasants resisted most
strongly.
With thoughts of hot Green Dragon tea and bed upper most in
his mind, Chong/Rogers hurried away. Had he glanced back he would have seen Mike
Donnelly and Agent Creel unshielding their faces to glance at him.
©2004 StoriesByEmail.com
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