Eve of Redemption (52 page)

“Shut up, punk!” Hank hovered over him. “You stabbed Josiah, man. Maybe killed him. Raquel ain’t gonna take kindly to that.” Hank pulled away. “We hold him for Raquel.”

R
aquel held Tiny’s huge head in her lap as she watched the hole that hung in mid-air disappear, leaving only the cool Arizona desert where a city had stood moments earlier. True to his word, Burke had remained behind. Raquel wondered if she would ever see him again. She doubted it. The strangeness of the past days had left her numb and emotionally spent. None of this made any sense, and yet, she had always suspected the universe held secrets beyond the imaginings of men. Now she knew for sure.

Tiny groaned. “Raquel? That you, girl?” His voice was weak and raspy. Raquel knew he must be in terrible pain. Blisters grew over most of his face, and some of the skin was peeling off. She was careful to keep her gaze from his empty eye sockets.

“Yeah, Tiny, it’s me.”

“What’s happening? Where we at now?”

Raquel looked around. “We’re back in the ghost town. It’s still empty, but the bikes are back.”

“Who’s back?”

Raquel heard the confusion in Tiny’s voice. She couldn’t blame him for it. “The bikes. They’re here, right where we left them. Rest of the town looks like no one’s been around in months. How you feeling?” She knew it was a stupid question but could think of nothing else to say.

“Can’t see nothin’. Face hurts. Tell me the truth, girl. How bad are my eyes?”

Raquel sighed. “I’m no doctor.” She didn’t have the strength to tell him he didn’t have any eyes. Let someone else break that news to him. She gazed out over what she could see of the town. She had no idea how she would get Tiny out of here if the others didn’t come back. What if they were all dead? Killed by those tongue-whipping monsters? No, she couldn’t let herself think that way. Josiah would come back, and he would know what to do. Josiah always knew what to do. Tiny would have been nothing without Josiah. Her husband had never believed that, but she had always recognized the power Josiah held in the gang. A match with him had seemed far from ideal at first, but the little man treated her like a queen. She smiled at the memory of the salute he had given her when they had been forced to split up.

“Raquel! Thank God you made it out.”

Raquel turned to see Specs running toward her. Her heart leapt in her chest. “Specs! You made it!”

Specs hurried to her side. “I’ve been looking all over, hoping you guys made it out.” He glanced at Tiny’s limp form. “Tiny? Man, what happened to your face?” Raquel caught Specs’ eye and shook her head. Specs nodded at her. “I mean, man, that looks like it hurts.”

Tiny’s cracked lips managed a small smile. “Yeah, ya might say that.”

“Where’s Burke and Martinez?” Specs asked. “They with you?”

Raquel shook her head. “Martinez is dead. Burke stayed behind. He thinks his daughter’s in there somewhere.” She looked around. “How many of you are there? Josiah’s with you?”

Specs hesitated just long enough to tell her something was wrong. “Uh, yeah, he’s with us.”

Raquel’s hand flashed out and grabbed the front of the Specs’ jacket. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Specs wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Josiah’s hurt. Bad.”

Raquel’s blood froze in her veins. “Where?” She tightened her grip and shook the man. “Where is he?”

Specs hung his head but raised one arm and pointed back the way he had come. “They’re back there. Couple blocks to the left.”

Raquel released him. “Take care of Tiny. I’ll send someone back to help you.” She stood up and ran in the direction Specs had pointed. Rounding the corner, she saw a small group of leather-clad men down the street and hurried toward them, her dark eyes frantically searching for her husband. Faces turned toward her as she approached, and a couple moved aside, faces drawn and downcast.

Raquel recognized Josiah’s bald head. He was propped up against a weathered wall, eyes closed. She slid to a halt beside him and grabbed one of his hands in both of hers. “Josiah? Baby, do you hear me?”

His ragged breathing seemed to come as much from his chest as from his mouth. Raquel removed one hand from his and pulled his jacket away, revealing his red stained t-shirt. Blood bubbled from an ugly gash near the center of his chest. Raquel gasped at the sight of the wound. She had seen enough injuries in her life to know this was not a wound a person recovered from, especially out here in the middle of nowhere. She placed a gentle hand on her husband’s pale face. “Josiah? Baby?”

Josiah’s breathing hitched, and his eyes opened to narrow slits. “Raquel?” To Raquel, his barely audible whisper was like music. At least she would be able to say good-bye.

“I’m here, baby. Right here.” She wanted to be strong for him but couldn’t hold back the tears streaming down her face.

“I…I had to…to do it, Raquel.”

“Don’t talk, baby. Just rest.”

Josiah’s hand tightened on hers. “Please…remember me.” His grip on her hand loosened as one last gasp slipped through his lips, then he lay still. With a sob, Raquel closed his eyes and pulled his lifeless form tight against her. Her body shook as she fought to hold back the pain and anger that threatened to tear her apart.

A hand pressed down on Raquel’s shoulder. She looked up through blurry eyes to see Hank standing over her. “He saved us all, Raquel. We were cornered, panicking. But not Josiah. He stood strong. He went to the Father, and the Father answered. He died saving us and showing us the way out. Showed us his killer, too.”

“His killer?” Raquel’s head snapped up. She had assumed Josiah’s wound had been inflicted by one of those monster’s tongues.

“It was Lynx,” Hank said. “But not really.”

“What are you saying?”

The biker shook his head. “Don’t understand it myself. It was Lynx—then it wasn’t. Someone else in her place. Screamed all kinds of curses and stabbed Josiah. We got him, though.”

Raquel cocked her head. Had Lynx killed Josiah or not? “Wait. You got
him
?”

“Yeah. Lynx wasn’t really Lynx. An illusion, I guess, like most of whatever that was. Some guy in her place. We got him, though.”

Her heart raced. “Alive? You got him alive?”

The corners of his mouth turned up in a sad smile. “Yeah, he’s alive. We saved him for you.”

Her pulse pounded even harder, the raw emotion of Josiah’s death replaced with white-hot fury. “Where?”

THE SERPENT FELT a sharp sting on his face. He forced his eyes open but had a hard time focusing them. Blurred figures hovered over him. Another stinging smack rocked his head the other way. He blinked his eyes a few times. The right one cleared, but the left remained swollen shut. That reminded him of the boot that had sent him off into darkness. He groaned and tried to bring a hand to his aching head, but neither of his hands would move. Nor would his legs.

“Wake up.”

The Serpent locked his good eye on the woman that stood over him. Raquel. A flutter of fear coursed through him. She shouldn’t be here. None of them should be here. They should all be dead. Again, he struggled to move but found he was tied spread-eagle on the ground, his arms and legs able to move only inches. Raquel straddled him, one leather booted foot on each side of his chest, her long dark hair shadowing her face as she stared down at him. The Serpent wanted to lash out at this woman, destroy her where she stood, but he was helpless to do anything. His life was in her hands—a woman’s hands, and it made him feel like he was just a child again. He did not like that feeling.

“Who are you?” she asked. Though her voice stayed calm, the Serpent could see rage in her eyes. He gulped to clear his dry throat.

“I’m the Serpent, witch.” He did his best to sound unafraid but failed to convince even himself.

“The Serpent, huh? Well, Mr. Serpent, you’re a long way from the Garden of Eden, but I bet you’ll fit right in back in that place we just came from.” Still her voice remained steady.

“Let me go, witch. You’ll regret it if you don’t.” The Serpent pulled harder at his bindings. For the first time, he noticed he was tied to the motorcycles. He lifted his head for a better view. Ropes connected each arm and leg to a separate bike. A layer of sweat erupted over his body.

The woman lifted her foot and placed her boot in the center of the Serpent’s chest. “You killed my husband, worm.” Keeping her foot planted on his chest, she bent down over him, arms crossed on top of her knee. The Serpent found himself gasping for air as her weight constricted his chest. “Now, tell me who you are.”

He cussed her out, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. His helpless position was so foreign to him that the words escaped before he had a chance to stop them. Denizen was gone. His power was gone. He was just a normal guy, weak and alone.

Raquel lifted her weight from the Serpent’s chest and spun around. “Do it.” She stalked away.

RAQUEL FELT ALMOST sorry for the kid. Almost. He couldn’t have been more than twenty years old, but she couldn’t make herself care. He killed Josiah. He was going to die. Behind her, the massive Harley engines revved to life. She paused, not turning back but not moving away either. The punk who called himself the Serpent began to yell as the bikes pulled the ropes tight, lifting him off the ground. Reality must have settled in because he began screaming curses, most aimed at her. The engines revved again, nearly drowning out the screams, which turned from curses to howls of agony. The heavy scent of exhaust hung in the air.

Raquel continued walking as the engines revved even louder, followed by the screeching of tires on the sandy asphalt. The screams of the Serpent fell silent.