The Paladin (11 page)

"Thank you, Larry!" Maggie gasped.

"Need more than a fancy flying knife, whore," he said.

Maggie sliced the arm pining her down with the blade. In a blinding blue flash of light, Bill screamed in pain and fell back. Instantly, the fire in her side disappeared as her ribs rejoined.

Bill stumbled in the tall grass and crashed to the ground. "No, it's not possible!" he cried.

Maggie smiled at the sight of the one-handed beast cowering before her. Looking down, she saw the amputated claw had transformed back into a man's hand.

"Be careful, Maggie, shape shifters can regenerate,"
said Kali.

"Whore, am I?" Maggie said as she advanced toward Bill. "We are going to have a talk about the proper way to treat a lady."

With a terrifying roar, the monstrous beast sprang at her. To her surprise, the creature had re-grown the severed left hand.

Maggie ducked and swung Kali upward and was treated to another cry of pain as the right arm was now barely a stump jutting from the shoulder.

Euphoria flooded Maggie's entire being as the last of her injuries and bruises healed. Grinning, she stood over the beast, Kali held high.

"Please, have mercy," he cried.

Maggie watched as the arm began to reform.

"Change back, Billy Boy," she ordered, "before I go Veg-O-Matic on your ass!"

"More,"
Kali moaned.
"Please, Maggie, let me have more."

Instantly, the beast once again became the small man.

"Don't kill me, please. I wasn't going to kill you…honest! I was just trying to scare you off!"

"Bullshit!" she exclaimed. Maggie snatched the wolf head necklace from his neck.

"Please, don't take the amulet," Bill cried. "I need it; without it I am nothing!"

Maggie jammed the necklace into her jeans pocket.

"Come on, short stack," she said grabbing a handful of his hair. "We are going to have a heart to heart."

"Don't hurt me, Maggie," he whimpered.

Dragging Bill into the house, she took a coil of rope and lashed his ankles together and his good arm to his side. Satisfied her prisoner was secure, Maggie turned on one of the lamps. To her surprise, Bill seemed to be a good ten years older than he looked by the fire.

"Please, let me go," he whined.

"You aren't going anywhere, Bill, not until you answer a few questions."

"Please, give me back my power," he whined. "You can't do this to me!"

"I need some information and I don't have all night."

"Go to hell, you whore!"

"One more ‘whore,’ out of your mouth and I'll castrate you!" she said. "Without your little wolf gizmo, I don't think
your
little gizmo will grow back."

"OK, but keep that damn knife away from me. What do you want to know?"

"How does Beck know about me?"

"His witch told him."

"Did you say
witch
?" Maggie asked as she placed Kali on the kitchen table. Her constant begging to feed on Bill was becoming not only distracting, but also creepy as hell.

"She foretold your coming. While Beck has put his men around Zack Cole, she sent me to deal with you. The fools! They think the Paladin is a man, but I sensed your power."

"So, she knows where I am now?"

"No, when you flaunted yourself to Beck's men I followed you here. When I have killed you, I am supposed to call her. With my debt paid, I am free to go my way."

Maggie pondered what he said.

"Now what am I going to do with you, Bill?"

"Give me back my power and let me go."

"And have round two?" she asked. "I don't think so."

"I don't have any loyalty to Beck or his witch," he said. "Give me the wolf back and you will never see me again. I swear to God!"

"I can't have a perverted thing like you running around!" she said. "No woman would ever be safe again."

"At least let me touch the necklace long enough to restore my arm."

"Get use to being a lefty."

Bill thought a moment.

"Can I have a drink of water?"

Maggie turned from her prisoner. Opening a small ice chest, she removed a bottle of water and uncapped the top.

Dropping her guard, she leaned down. In her mind, with only one arm and tied like he was, Bill was no longer a threat. This would be her first lesson in not taking anything for granted. It was almost her last.

While she was distracted, Bill had gathered his feet underneath himself. Like a coiled spring, he sprang upward, head butting Maggie. Stunned from the terrific blow, she stumbled back and fell to the floor. Before she could recover, he hopped forward and fell upon her midsection, knocking the wind from her. As she gasped for breath, he managed to slide his fingers into her pocket and pull free the wolf necklace.

With a laugh, Bill once again became the beast. The ropes that bound him, being no match for his supernatural strength, ripped apart and fell away. Bill smiled as his stump quickly reformed into his right arm.

Maggie looked toward Kali, but the beast laughed.

"I am going to maim you with your own fancy knife,
whore
!" he growled, reaching for the knife. "Then we are going to have some real
fun
."

Before his fingers could grasp the horn shaft, Kali spun about, the naked blade connecting with his hand. The room lit up in an explosion of blue light.

Blinded and grasping his burned fingers, the beast took several steps back.

As his vision returned, Bill found a thoroughly pissed Maggie Black standing before him, bringing Kali around in a deadly arc.

Bill Long had time for one whimper before he died.

***

Mrs. Anderson was sitting in her study when her cell phone began to buzz angrily. Picking up the cell, she read the text message and smiled.

Our deal is done. Paladin died before revealing who sent him.

"Bill Long was the perfect man for the job," Mrs. Anderson said. "On the surface, he was such a friendly and gentle man, but underneath he seethed with savage hatred. He was the perfect tool to kill the Paladin. Too bad he didn't know that the Amulet of Zevon would have consumed him within a few months. Each transformation takes years off your life." Mrs. Anderson laughed. "The damn thing is worse than cigarettes. As hilarious as it would've been to let him loose upon the world, his antics could've been traced back to me, and I can't have that."

Taking a small cloth image of Bill Long, complete with bits of his hair and nails, she pierced its chest with a small knife.

Smiling, she tossed the crude image into her fireplace. Of its own accord, a fire sprang to life and consumed the fetish.

"Goodbye, Mr. Long," she said. "Your usefulness has come to an end."

***

As the witch hurried to call John Beck with the good news, Maggie walked through a crowded truck-stop parking lot scanning license plates.

"That is it," she said softly as the truck pulled out. "Just what the Doctor ordered."

Maggie tossed Bill's phone into the back of the tractor-trailer bound for Arizona.

"That should convince Bill's boss that the deed is done and that he is headed for parts unknown."

12

"Are you sure about this?" Zack asked as he peered through the lattice of the side porch.

"Quit being such a chicken shit and get going," Sara said.

As the waning sun cast long shadows, Sara and Brenda sat on a porch swing watching Zack pull free a section of decorative lattice.

"I figured a great big fellow like yourself would have gotten over your fear of spiders by now," Sara said.

"I ain't afraid of spiders!"

"If you want me to, Zack, I'll go," volunteered Brenda.

"Yes, let the girl do all the work," Sara said. "You're a regular action hero, Zack."

"Don't you have something better to do right now?" he asked. "Like maybe take some Geritol or change your Depends?"

"Zack, you shouldn’t talk to Sara like that."

"Well, she started it," he said as he tore another section of the screen away.

"Let me see," Sara said, gingerly getting out of the swing. Zack gently helped the frail woman off the porch and she peered into the gloom.

"Oh, how this brings back memories."

"You sure it's still there?"

"When I was a little girl, this was my special place and nobody has been here but me. Trust me, boy, it's still there."

Reaching into his back pocket, Zack pulled out a cheap plastic flashlight. Taking a deep breath, he got down on all fours.

Please God, don't let there be spiders,
he prayed to himself.

Guided by the dim yellow light, Zack crawled over to the big brick chimney.

Zack smiled as he looked upon the large cast iron door set into the side of the chimney. The ornate iron door covered an ash cleanout beneath the master bedroom’s fireplace.

"What is that?" Zack asked himself, as he peered closely at the door. "Looks like a handprint."

Sure enough, on the rusty surface was a faint white handprint. Zack touched the surface and the protective angelic handprint faded away.

"All this talk about Silas has my eyes playing tricks on me," he mumbled.

***

A year before his disappearance, Silas Cole renovated his home. Blocking up the fireplace, he installed a more efficient oil heater. He then built the side porch and turned the abandoned ash pit into a lonely little girl's special place and the perfect hiding place for his secrets.

Wiping almost seventy years of dust from its surface, Zack tried the door, but it resisted him at first. Anxious to be gone from the spider-infested hell, Zack pulled with all his might and the door came off in his hand with a loud, rusty shriek.

Discarding the rusty iron plate, Zack took his flashlight and scanned the interior. Reeking of ash, the small space contained a cigar box and one large carpetbag.

Zack felt an icy chill as he thought of this ugly bag once belonging to Silas Cole himself.

Protected as it was by the solid brick and the iron door, the bag was coated in ash, but otherwise in near perfect condition.

Taking the cigar box along with the bag, he dragged them back to the opening. Zack emerged into the sun with a broad smile and gave Sara the cigar box. Sara clapped her hands with delight and took her childhood treasure.

Zack shook the bag vigorously, trying to remove as much of the clinging ash as possible. He made a face as he inhaled a lungful of the dust cloud and sneezed several times before rejoining Brenda on the swing.

With the bag between them, he undid the straps. Sara took a seat in one of the two white ladder-back rocking chairs as Zack opened a portal to the long dead past.

"Whew, it smells ripe," exclaimed Zack, as he opened the bag wide.

Ignoring the rank smell, Brenda reached in and took out a handful of yellowed papers and what appeared to be a thick journal.

"What's this?" Zack said pulling out an ornately carved meerschaum pipe. The pipe was in the form of a snarling bulldog and had a curved black stem.

"That's the bulldog!" said Sara. "Uncle Silas's pipe. Oh, let me see it!"

Zack quickly handed the pipe to Sara. He felt dirty just touching anything Silas owned.

With shaking hands and tearful eyes, she held her beloved uncle's most valued possession.

"Look at this, Zack," said Brenda handing him the dog-eared journal. "It says,
THE JOURNAL OF RUFUS PRITCHARD."

"Who the hell is Rufus Pritchard?" Zack asked as he turned through the yellow pages of the journal.

"I don't know," said Sara, "the name doesn’t ring a bell."

***

Jeff Cody sat in his car looking through a pair of small binoculars.

"Mr. Beck," he said in his cell phone. "Zack has pulled some kind of cloth bag from under the side porch."

"That's it!" cried Beck. "Silas had a carpetbag at the church! It must contain the vessel!" Beck's heart pounded excitedly in his chest.

"Take the vessel, Cody," Beck said. "And make sure there are no witnesses."

"You got it, boss," said Cody.

"No, you mustn't!" said a new voice on the line.

"The vessel isn't in the bag, you fool!" said Mrs. Anderson. "I have swept Sara Johnson's house many times looking for the Collamarr and it isn't there. In your zeal you will ruin everything!"

"Stand down, Mr. Cody," said Beck. "Take no action, but don't let Cole out of your sight."

"OK, boss," Cody said as he switched off his phone.

"Did you know about the bag, witch?" asked Beck.

"No. I have personally searched the house many times, but somehow, its hiding place has eluded me."

"So, you are fallible."

"Look here, Beck. I took care of the Paladin for you and I won't stand by while you screw this up with your impatience!"

"Watch the attitude," he warned.

"Zack Cole will find the Collamarr. Stay close to him and you will be reunited with your dear wife."

"Very well," said Beck. "However, you upbraid me again, especially in front of my men, and I will have your head on a platter. Understand me, witch?"

"Perfectly."

"By the way, good work dealing with the Paladin even though it did cost me a first rate gardener."

"My pleasure."

13

Leaving Sara to her memories, Zack and Brenda took the dusty carpetbag and retreated into the house. Zack emptied the bag's contents onto the dining room table.

When he opened the journal, a photograph fluttered out.

"What do we have here?" Zack said under his breath as he picked up the black and white photo.

The photo was of an unsmiling young African-American couple. The man sat in an ornate high-backed chair, his legs crossed, while the woman stood behind him. The man wore a uniform that reminded Zack of old cavalry movies he used to watch late at night.

When he turned the photo over, he saw the words:
Emma and Rufus 1885.

"Find something?" Brenda asked.