Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons (29 page)

“You tie her up.”

I nodded. Was Lilith testing me? Seeing if I carried feelings for

Mary? Naw, that wasn’t Lilith’s style. She was more likely to smack me until

I came clean. I glanced down at Mary, taking her hands in mine, and winding

the rope around her body.

Instead of protesting, she watched me. “After she’s dead,” Mary

pointed to Lilith, “come back and I’ll make you forget all about her.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” I said, glancing at Lilith. However, fear

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swept through me. The kind of gut churning fear that comes with knowledge.

I knew the heartbreak of losing Lilith, of watching her die. I couldn’t take

that sort of pain a second time. The sacrifice was too great.

Once Mary was secured, Lilith turned to me. “Okay, here’s the plan.

I bust through the door, grab Jesus, and you meet me outside.”

I grinned. “And what am I doing outside?”

“Hailing a cab.”

I shook my head. “Uh-uh.”

She tucked her hands across her chest. “It’s a very important task,

dangerous even.”

“No.” I reached for her hand and pulled her body against mine. “This

is my mission. I won’t let you die for me again.”

My lips brushed hers, and with some regret, I pulled the needle filled

with Thorazine left over from my psychotic days from my pocket, popped

the cap, and jabbed it into her jugular vein. Her eyes went wide, then glassy,

and finally shut, her body slumping into my arms.

I kissed her unmarred forehead. “Foolish or not, I do love you.

Remember that when you wake up.”

“How sweet,” Mary sneered, tugging at the ropes holding her.

“Don’t go anywhere.” Grabbing Tyrfing, I pointed the sword at

Mary. “And you better pray I make it back before she wakes up.” With that

parting shot, I opened the second door, and stepped into my destiny.

Why did destiny smell like fish?

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Fifty Six

Goosebumps popped along my arms, crawling down my fingertips at

the sickening smell of rotting marine life. Tyrfing shook in my hand, but I

steadied it and stepped through the opened doorway.

At first glance, the room appeared ordinary, safe even. No dragons or

daggers. It was decorated in Buddhist finery of gold and black. Not a dead

fish in sight. But something stunk, a rottenness of the soul maybe. Or the

smell might have emanated from the three hundred pound guy standing next

to a ten foot statue of a fat, jolly Buddha.

“Hi, Sid.” I nodded my head in acknowledgement. “Can’t say I’m

surprised to see you here.” And I wasn’t. After the third attempt on my life,

I’d figured whoever was responsible had more in mind than a simple

kidnapping. They wanted me dead, and while I’d like to think that list of

people was relatively short, one name kept coming up. Siddhartha Gautama,

the first Buddha, or Sid as he was known to lesser mortals. He hated me more

than most. Plus, Sid had sent me to the Botanic Gardens in the first place.

He’d set me up, and I’d walked around oblivious, like a moron, until I’d

finally put two and two together, and came up with eight.

Sid pulled the kid from behind his back like a retarded magician.

“Throw your weapon into the hallway, and shut the door.”

“You okay, kid?” I asked, glancing down at the sword in my hand,

and weighing the sanity of bum-rushing Sid. On one hand, this mess would

finally be finished, but the kid might end up hurt. With genuine regret, I did

as he’d ordered, tossing Tyrfing into the hallway like a caber, and returning

my attention to the small child in Sid’s fat arms.

The kid looked all right. No obvious signs of trauma. The same could

not be said for Bodhi cat. His fat white head stuck out from the kid’s sagging

diaper, eyes wide and horrified. The kid gave me a drooly smile. “Mine.”

“Yep, it’s your one true hero. I’ve come to return you to your rightful

place, but first,” my eyes burned into Sid’s, “I’m going to beat the shit out of

the bad man.”

Sid laughed, sending spit flying. A drop or two landed on the kid’s

head causing him to frown. “Hero?” Sid chuckled, clutching his jiggling

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sides. “A man whose path is lone, and filled with sand. Only he can be called

hero.”

“Jesus.” I rolled my eyes, and shifted my weight to one foot. “Drop

the Zen-shit already.”

His face reddened, eyes burning with hate. “I will enjoy killing you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I steadied myself. “Get on with it then. I’m sick of

your blabbering.”

For a second he looked ready to explode. That would be the

diversion I needed to save the kid, even if it meant spending an eternity in

hell.

But instead of attacking me, he laughed again. “You as a solitary

man seek rage, but it is not to be.”

“Yeah, I get it.” I shrugged. “I’m rubber and you’re glue. See, they

teach this shit in kindergarten. Now tell me what the fuck you want.”

My eyes scanned the room, looking for anything I might use as a

weapon. So far, I’d mentally murdered Sid with a curtain rod, a mousetrap,

and a half-chewed piece of gum stuck to the bottom of my boot.

“Do you know beauty can be found in all things?” Sid stroked the

kid’s halo of spiked blond hair, waiting for my answer.

I’d play along. Why the fuck not? “Don’t take it personal, but beauty

can’t be found in
all
things.” I waved at his bald, round head, thick middle

and stubby legs. Sure, the guy had a hell of a happy smile, but beauty, not

even close.

Ignoring my comment, he continued, “When Mary came to me the

first time, I saw what you desired. The shell of perfection, but as my

dastardly—” he smirked “—plan to rule the Heavens began, the shell lost

appeal. I did not expect that.”

I laughed. “What can I say? I’m deep.” None of this was news to me.

Mary and Sid teamed up to kidnap the Messiah. So why the assignation

attempts on me? And why kidnap the kid a second time?

The obvious answer was insanity. Full-fledged megalomania with a

healthy dose of delusion on the side. Sid wanted to be the next God.

Somehow, I doubted the current Lord and Savior would step down without a

fight.

Damn, that was it. Sid planned to use the kid as leverage. A fucked-

up leverage if you asked me. God had sacrificed the kid once already, what

made Sid think God would care this time? And why drag me here? He

planned to use me somehow, but I was too stupid to see it.

I snapped back to the present when Sid said, “You, a man without a

moral island, surprised me. You sacrificed yourself for both woman and

child; yet, you refuse to see the true light of an enlightened path. You are a

fool, like your heart’s desire.” He raised his hand to the ceiling, and the toga

he wore rode up north of decent. “His greatest fear has happened. Knowledge

has replaced Him, and my time has come.”

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“Bullshit.”

The kid frowned at me.

“Sorry.” I shot him a small smile. “Bull dung.” The kid nodded,

apparently satisfied. I added, “We’re not here to argue religion. His or yours.

It’s all the same. Now tell me what I’m doing here, or else I’m gone.” It was

a huge bluff. No way in hell I’d leave the kid with him, but I prayed he didn’t

know that.

“You’re bluffing.”

Score one for Sid.

“But time is limited, and your very presence curdles my spirit.” Sid

set the kid and diaper-rashed cat on the floor. “The path I choose converges

with yours. Only one will be the victor. My time has come, so yours shall

pass.” Sid pulled out a serrated knife. “In others words, I kill you and the

brat, and Heaven is mine. Because He cannot rule without His heir. For

without the Second, there can be no promises of salvation for the faithful.

Hence, no salvation for Him.”

“What about Mary? Where does she fit in your plan?”

Sid laughed. “She doesn’t. Like you, Mary is meaningless. A bit of

fluff for me to use and control at a whim. She believes she can rule heaven,

that I would dare let her and her bastard rule. Oh no, as soon as you are dead,

and Heaven is mine, I will destroy her and her child.”

“And the kid? What’s he mean to you?”

“The question is, what does he mean to you?” Sid grinned, as he

shoved the kid with his foot.

I nodded once, acknowledging the fact I would die to save the kid.

Now I just had to wait for Sid to make a move. My plan was simple, stupidly

so. When Sid attacked, I’d wait until the last possible second, and sweep kick

his fat ass. The bigger they were, the harder they fall was more than a figure

of speech. It just might save my ass.

Once Sid went down, I planned to snatch the kid from the floor,

tossing him and the beast-cat-from-hell out the door, grabbing Tyrfing, and

hacking Sid to pieces. Then I’d hack those pieces into smaller pieces until he

was bite-size. Barely big enough to feed Bodhi and the pigeons in Central

Park. Would pigeons eat fish-flavored Buddha?

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Fifty Seven

“How about a last cigarette?” I asked after a few silent seconds. Sid

was waiting, but for what? I glanced around the room, seeing nothing out of

the ordinary. If by ordinary, I meant the Messiah, a pooh-covered cat, and a

fat guy in a bed sheet.

Sid looked confused by my request. “You don’t smoke.”

“Yeah, but he does.” I pointed behind him. Sid’s eyes followed my

finger. A trick that until today I would’ve sworn only worked in cheesy

mystery novels or in the White House.

“Wha—” was all Sid got out before I was on top of him, slamming

my fist into his marshmallow abdomen.

“Run,” I yelled to the kid, which in hindsight was a stupid thing to

say to a kid who could barely walk. But the kid did the best he could. Lifting

Bodhi into his arms, he teetered at a half-walk/crawl/run toward the door.

Before the kid made it to the door, Sid landed a series of agile kicks

to my lower body. My rage exploded, my survival instinct taking control.

Destroy or be destroyed.

Thud.

The rattled of the door gained my attention. Tyrfing. The sword had

felt my bloodlust. I smiled. Sid was fucked for sure now. I punched him in

the head, busting my one unbroken knuckle on his stone-like cheek.

“Open the door then duck,” I told the kid. “Hurry.” The sword

clattered against the doorframe again sending bits of wood flying through the

room.

It was fillet of Sid time.

The kid and his cat struggled to reach the doorknob. In the meantime,

Sid had recognized his peril and struggled to strangle me. His fat fingers

roped around my neck, digging, clawing, and tearing at my skin. Spots

appeared before my eyes, growing larger as my oxygen level grew smaller.

As a last resort, I pulled a Larry, Curly, and Moe trick, poking Sid in

the eye while squeaking out a ‘whoop, whoop, whoop’.

Luck for me, Sid had long ago forsaken comedy for PBS. My finger

jabbed itself between eye and socket, and I dug in. The stunned eyeball flew

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from its former resting place, veins detaching as it spiraled across the sky,

and landed with a splat. It bounced once, rolled, and stopped two inches from

the kid’s feet, eyeball up.

The kid glanced at me, and then to the bloodied eyeball. “Mine?” I

would’ve reassured him had Sid not continued to compress my windpipe, all

the while whining about his lack of eyeball.

For a Buddhist, he sure as hell could hold his own in a fight though.

What happened to Ahisma? Or letting go of all worldly wants and desires?

Fuck, I’d settle for him to let go of my throat.

Bang. The sword crashed against the door again.

Grayness swirled around my brain. My lungs burned weakening from

every non-breath.

The doorframe splintered from the force of Tyrfing’s assault. The tip

of the blade poked through the crack.

With my last bit of breath, I prayed, “God, now is not the time to

fuck with me. Open the damn door.”

For the first time, He actually did as I asked. The door squeaked

open, drawing seven startled eyes. Suddenly Sid released me and staggered

to his feet. He ran for a double-bladed ninja sword attached to the opposite

wall. Damn, why hadn’t I seen that sooner?

“You stay right here, you son-of-a-bitch,” I choked out, tugging on

the hem of Sid’s sheet. My oxygen deprived muscles exhausted their last

shreds of energy, and in a muscular revolution uncurled and let Sid literally

slip through my fingers.

I doubled over, sucking in air, my head between my legs like a