Tortured Spirits (31 page)

Catoute cackled.

“A wise offer,” Kalfu said, “but no longer possible under these circumstances.”

Tears streamed down Sivelia's cheeks. “No …”

Catoute watched Kalfu transform into his true flesh
form and relished Sivelia's terrified screams. The Loa tore her dress to shreds, then turned his attention to her skin. Bones snapped, flesh stretched and ripped, and blood flowed. Catoute almost felt sorry for her granddaughter as Kalfu mounted the girl's reconfigured body from behind and thrust the horn between his legs into her openings. Sivelia pleaded for Kalfu to stop, for Catoute to help, and, realizing neither would happen, for death to take her.

As Kalfu feasted on the girl's tissue, Catoute didn't have to wonder what would happen to her if she failed to deliver Helman to her master.

The first leech died on Jake's right thigh. He felt the sucking stop, and then the creature turned still and rolled off him, leaving a bloody sore covered in mucus-like slime.

“Thank God,” Jake said as Maria picked up the dead parasite and deposited it into a waste container.

The next one died a few minutes later, and within half an hour Maria treated all six wounds with disinfectant that caused Jake to curse.

“How do you feel?” Maria said.

“Like I've been through detox but I can't stop thinking about that shit.”

“How did it make you feel?”

He thought about it. “Vile. And yet there was something soothing about giving myself over to it. The repercussions didn't matter as long as I was able to desensitize myself to
the world.”

“Is the world such a bad place?”

“Sometimes it is. You know that. Sometimes it's beautiful. But darkness has a way of trumping beauty.”

“That's pretty bleak.”

“I need to find cleaning solution for my glass eye.” Jake raised his stump. “And I'm worried that if this gets infected, I could lose my entire arm.” He pointed to his face. “These scars will never heal unless I have plastic surgery. My wife was murdered, my best friend was turned into a raven, and I seem to have as hard a time avoiding zonbies as I do staying clean. It's a little difficult to find much sunshine.”

Maria stepped close to him. “But not impossible.”

“No, not impossible.”

She kissed him, then put her arms around him. “I was worried about you.”

“I worried about you, too.”

She sniffed his shirt. “You stink.”

“You stink, too.”

Maria looked into his eye. “The guys are cooking breakfast. I saw one of those old claw-foot tubs in another room, rigged with a wood-burning stove. What do you say we heat some water, act social, then chase everyone off so we can take a bath together?”

“That sounds proper.”

Sitting at a long table in a wide room in the cave, they ate
bacon and eggs wrapped in tortillas. Walls had been erected to create a buiding-like atmosphere, and mounted torches burned.

“There's nothing like a good home-cooked meal in a cave,” Maria said.

“My brother's the cook in the family,” Jorge said.

“It's true,” Armand said. “Jorge even manages to ruin toast.”

“What do you guys do for a living?” Jake said.

“I work in the salt mine,” Armand said. “Stephane owns a horse ranch.”

Stephane grinned. “I bought it to be a tour guide, only the tourists never showed up.”

“Won't you be missed at work?” Maria said.

Armand shook his head. “Because I don't wear the black snake on my arm, they only call me when they need me.”

“Where's Pharah?” Jake said.

“She'll be back,” Stephane said. “She went to the market for groceries.”

“We won't be here that long,” Maria said.

“Bondye willing,” Armand said.

Jake looked at the faces around him. “How did you know where to find me?”

Jorge gestured to Armand. “Our cousin is a nurse at the clinic where they took you.”

“Ramona?”

Jorge nodded. “I almost had Maria on a boat when we got the news. From that moment on, she was an unstoppable force.”

“This is some woman,” Stephane said.

With his admiration for her growing, Jake gazed at Maria. The torchlight caressed her features.

She didn't look away.

Jake winced as he settled into the bath, the hot water burning the sores left by the leeches. He dangled his left arm over the edge of the tub, keeping his bandaged stump dry.

Maria stripped before him and opened her mouth as she stepped into the steaming water. “Speaking of scars, these scratches had better heal.” She eased herself into the water, and they sat facing each other with their knees raised and their heads resting on the edge of the old tub. “Christ, that feels good.”

“Add taking a bath in a secret cave to the list of things I never expected to do in my life.”

She stared at him with relaxed features. “This is all so crazy. I can't believe it's been less than a week since Miami.”

“Time flies when you're battling the supernatural.”

Maria straightened her legs so they pressed against Jake's. “How do you do it?
Why
do you do it?”

“I don't have much choice. Trouble follows me. Maybe I'm cursed.”

“I hope Edgar's okay.”

“I do, too.”

“If we make it out and Miriam keeps her word, what do you think he'll say about all this?”

“I have no idea. I just hope he can put his life back together.” Jake felt himself growing hard.

“I think you like me,” Maria said, nodding at his erection.

“I think you're right.”

Sliding her hands through the water, she closed her fingers around his shaft and tightened them in sequence over and over, like a flautist.

Jake moaned and grew harder.

“You feel awfully tense. Got a lot on your mind?”

Jake grabbed the side of the tub as Maria stroked him. “You sure you're a cop?”

“I've always been a multitasker.”

He felt the pressure building inside him. Maria glided forward through the water and leaned closer to his face. He looked up at the stalactites and let loose a groan, then closed his eyes.

Sitting at his desk and poring over a ledger, Father Alejandro looked up when he heard vehicles approaching. After removing his reading glasses, he stood at the window and peered outside. A black limo, a jeep carrying two officers, and a troop transport truck pulled into the parking lot.

What in God's name?

He hurried out of his office to the side exit. Outside, his heart skipped a beat when he saw Bill Russel, the head of Malvado's secret police, and Maxime, one of the dictator's sons, walking toward him from the limo. The army officer climbed out of the jeep and mobilized the soldiers jumping out of the transport truck.

“What's the meaning of this?” Alejandro said as Russel and Maxime reached him.

Maxime slapped him. “Speak when spoken to.”

Alejandro felt a stinging in his cheek. “I don't understand.”

Russel stepped between them. “Father, may we speak inside?”

Alejandro watched the soldiers fanning out across the property, some of them heading toward the garage. “What are these men doing?”

Russel gestured to the door. “Inside, Father. Please.”

Alejandro glanced at Maxime, who had always struck him as an unreasonable brute. He led the men to his office. “Kindly tell me what this is about. I've done nothing wrong.”

“Haven't you?” Maxime said.

“No, I haven't.”

Russel motioned to the chair at Alejandro's desk. “Sit.”

Alejandro did as Russel suggested, and Russel pulled a chair over and sat, too. Maxime remained standing.

Russel took two pieces of paper from inside his jacket and unfolded them. “Have you seen either of these people?”

Alejandro studied the passport photos of Maria Vasquez and Jake Helman. “No, never. Who are they?” As a rule he accepted that to tell a lie was to break one of the Ten Commandments, but as an intermediary between La Mère and the various organizations opposing Le Monstre, he knew that protecting hundreds of people's lives justified a little creativity.

“Two Americans, like me,” Russel said. “They've murdered a number of Pavotian soldiers and have sabotaged some of our national agriculture. At least three citizens are
helping them. It's imperative that we bring them to justice before they can escape the island. We're willing to show certain leniency toward their accomplices if they come forward.”

Leniency,
Alejandro thought.
You mean torture or enslavement.
He didn't believe the stories that Malvado populated his drug fields with the walking dead, but he did believe Malvado enslaved his enemies. “I'm sorry, Mr. Russel. I haven't seen these people, and I don't know who these accomplices are. I can't help you.”

Russel offered him a sympathetic smile. “Father, I'm pressed for time. You're the figurehead of legitimate opposition to President Malvado. We've allowed you a certain amount of breathing space because we want the world to see that we're tolerant of dissenting views.”

Alejandro felt sweat forming on his forehead. “I don't know what you're talking about. I'm no dissident. I'm just a simple priest, loyal to Pavot Island.”

“But are you loyal to President Malvado?”

“Yes, of course. I—”

“Now you're lying to me. I know you've communicated with Miriam Santiago in Miami. You funnel cash from her to the rebels.”

“I don't know what you're—”

Outside, a soldier called out.

Alejandro's heart beat faster.
What have they found?

Russel's cell phone rang. Answering the call, he locked his eyes on Alejandro's. “We'll be right there.” Russel hung up. “Let's go outside, Father. Our soldiers have made an interesting discovery.”

Rising, Alejandro felt Maxime staring at the back of his head. He didn't trust the man behind him.

They crossed the driveway to the garage, which also served as a maintenance department. As soon as Alejandro saw the soldiers gathered there, he knew they had discovered the tunnel.