Ash Return Of The Beast Part 25

CHAPTER 44.

The Next Day...

New Mexico It was still a sweltering 90 degrees when Ravenwood landed in Albuquerque just after 6 p.m. She rented a car and headed straight for Sky City, an ancient sun-parched pueblo complex situated some 360 feet atop a steep-walled mesa in the middle of nowhere about 30 miles outside of Albuquerque. The small population consisted mostly of the Acoma people. Among them was her childhood friend, Tocho.

Sky City, although rustic and relatively primitive, did have what every good Native American tourist trap needs to survive: a nice hotel and a modern casino. Tocho, now in his late forties, with shoulder-length graying black hair and a deeply creva.s.sed face, worked as a bartender at the casino. But Ravenwood hadn't come all this way just for a drink. At least not that kind of a drink. Tocho had another skill when it came to mixing up liquid spirits. He'd spent a few years living in the jungles of Central America as a kind of sorcerer's apprentice under the tutelage of a Mesoamerican shaman named Tlacatecolotl, the 'Owl Man'. That's where Tocho learned the art of making the powerful psychedelic brew known as ayahuasca, the spirit vine.

Ravenwood and Tocho had not seen each other since she'd left New Mexico decades ago but they had kept in touch through letters and, more recently, by email. In her latest email she'd told him that she needed his help and that it would involve the spirit vine. She didn't tell him why. She knew if he knew what she wanted to do he would tell her to forget it. He'd tell her it was too dangerous. He'd be right. She knew that. But she also knew something even more dangerous may be at stake. She needed to know for sure because, if she was right, she was the only one who could prevent the h.e.l.l that was about to be unleashed upon an unsuspecting world.

CHAPTER 45.

That Night...

As Cowl lay motionless on the hospital bed he could sense a disturbance rising up from somewhere deep within the desolate void of his comatose mind. Then he heard the voice of the Beast inside his head.

"Number eight has been sacrificed," it said in a low, whispering tone.

Cowl was confused. "What? How?"

"I took care of it. Lilit has been freed from the binds that have held her for so long. She stands ready with the others at the Gate. The work is nearly done."

"And what about me? What about my 'someday', my revenge? I was promised"

"And so it shall be. In five days you shall rise again and finish the work. You shall have your sweet revenge and the Keys of the Gate Keeper will be mine. Simple as that."

CHAPTER 46.

Sky City, New Mexico...

Tocho checked his watch. It was 9 p.m., his s.h.i.+ft was over and he expected Ravenwood to show up any minute. He clocked out and poured himself a shot of tequila. She walked in just as he was about to lift the gla.s.s but the sight of her stopped him in mid-motion. They had exchanged photos by email and he had thought to himself that she looked pretty good after all these years. But now, in the glow of the glittering casino lights she looked more than just pretty good. In her black, western-styled s.h.i.+rt with white brocade down the sleeves and the slim-fitting black denim pants over a pair of stylish ox blood red western boots, she looked like something out of a Hollywood movie. Or the cover of Maxim magazine. He sucked the shot down in a single gulp and without taking his eyes off her he slowly set the empty gla.s.s on the bar.

She walked up to him and tucked one side of her long hair back behind her ear. Then she crossed both of her hands over her heart. "In lak'ech ala k'in," she said, knowing he would understand. It was an ancient Mayan greeting meaning 'I am another you' or 'I am you and you are me'.

He returned the greeting then looked her up and down and laughed. He felt entirely under-dressed in his faded blue jeans and denim s.h.i.+rt with the cuffs beginning to fray at the edges. "You're not exactly another me. Look at you." His voice had a deep, resonant tone. He'd often been told he should be in radio. "Good G.o.d, girl. You look great."

She actually blushed. "You don't look so bad, yourself, mister."

"Liar. So how you been? Man, it's good to see you." He nodded toward the bottle. "Drink?"

"Sure, why not."

"My place?"

"How far is it?"

"Less than a minute. Unless you're half s.h.i.+t-faced. That can add a minute or two."

"What?"

He shot a glance upward. "I live upstairs. Small studio apartment. Cheap rent. You got a place to stay?"

"How convenient. But, yes, thanks. I got a room at the hotel."

He nodded. "d.a.m.n. Just my luck."

Ravenwood laughed but she wasn't sure if he was kidding or not.

"Well," he said, pus.h.i.+ng himself away from the bar. "Let me show you my humble abode." He s.n.a.t.c.hed the bottle of tequila off the bar. "Follow me."

CHAPTER 47.

Kane's Apartment...

Kane tossed his keys onto the coffee table and hit the play b.u.t.ton on the answering machine on his way to the kitchen. He grabbed a cold beer from the refrigerator, popped the cap and rolled the cool, moist bottle across his forehead. He leaned against the counter, took a sip and listened to the messages. The first two were from mortgage companies offering the best refinancing deals in town.

He yelled at the answering machine. "I'm renting a f.u.c.king apartment, you stupid a.s.sholes."

The third message was from a company selling home security systems.

Kane pulled his pistol from his shoulder holster and aimed it at the answering machine. "Got my home security system right here, thank you very much."

The fourth message was one he hoped wouldn't be on the machine. It turned his gut into a knot. He tightened his grip on the gun as he listened to the old man's quivering voice.

...Brian, please... Please, help me for G.o.d's sake... Son, I'm so sorry... Brian, please pick up... I know you hate me... You have every right... But I just... Brian, he's coming for me... Jesus Christ, son. I'm frightened, Brian. In the name of G.o.d, you've got to do something! Brian... Son... Please...

Kane moved quickly into the living room and shut off the machine in the middle of the old man's words. He'd heard enough.

...Messages deleted...

He paced the floor, jaw clenched, his emotions twisted into a mix of anger and frustration. It was the fourth pathetic plea for help that Pastor Pete had left on his machine in the past two days. Even when he was home at the time the call came in he refused to pick up the phone. He had no desire to talk to the old man. He wouldn't know what to say, anyway. He was still wrestling with his conscience over the whole thing. All he knew for certain was that somebody had to do something and it had to be done soon.

He moved back into to the kitchen, grabbed another beer and sat down at the table. He tipped the chair back and stared at the ceiling. He suddenly caught himself thinking about Ravenwood, wondering what she was doing. Chasing aliens? He let the chair fall forward, planted his elbows on the table, head in hands, and ma.s.saged his eyes. Somebody's got to do something, G.o.dd.a.m.n it.

CHAPTER 48.

Tocho's Apartment...

Ravenwood surveyed the small studio apartment while Tocho rummaged through a kitchen cupboard looking for two clean gla.s.ses. He had to settle for one drinking gla.s.s and a black coffee mug emblazoned with the casino logo. He poured two fingers of tequila into each one and returned to the living room where he found Ravenwood sitting on the edge of his unmade bed. It was a tempting sight but he knew better.

"Oh, sorry," he said, handing her the gla.s.s. "C'mon. Get up."

Ravenwood stood up with a puzzled look. Then Tocho hooked his foot behind a metal bar under the bed and gave it a shove. The bed creaked as it folded up into a brown leather couch. He dragged a small coffee table over in front of it and sat down. He patted the couch. "Have a seat. Best seat in the house."

Ravenwood looked around. "You mean the only seat in the house."

"Yeah, that too." He raised his coffee mug. "So, here's to old times."

She clinked her gla.s.s against the mug and smiled. "Old times." She took a sip and gave an approving nod. "Not bad." She set the gla.s.s on the coffee table. "So... here we are."

Tocho nodded. "Yup, here we are." He leaned back into the couch and threw his feet up on the coffee table. The soles of his old brown Tony Lamas were wearing thin and the uppers hadn't seen a lick of polish in years. "Exactly why we're here, I'm not sure. But I got a feeling you're about to tell me."

During the flight from Seattle, Ravenwood had worked out what she thought was a pretty good abbreviated version of the whole story and what she needed from him. But now, in the reality of the moment, it didn't seem so simple. She took another drink and just started talking. Thirty minutes later she'd told him much more than she'd planned and much more than he needed to know.

Tocho had heard a lot of strange stories in his time but none of them had presented the kind of real danger as what he was hearing from Ravenwood. He sat up and shook his head. "I gotta tell you, girl, it sounds like you done got yourself into some serious s.h.i.+t here."

"Yeah, but I have to know for sure if it's what it appears to be. That's why I need the ayahuasca. I need to find out if it's true that these sacrificial murders are in fact awakening the offspring of the Old Ones."

"Wait," he said, setting his cup on the table. "Let me get this straight. You're telling me you want to journey down through the Underworld to the Gate?"

She nodded. "To see if the demons are gathered there... waiting."

Tocho shook his head. "Man... I don't know... I mean, you'd be risking your life. I don't think you know what you'd be getting yourself into."

"Believe me, I do."

"Well, why, then? What's the point?"

"Because if it's true, then like you said, this is serious s.h.i.+t. In fact s.h.i.+t doesn't get any more serious than this. Don't you get it? We're talking global carnage, G.o.dd.a.m.n h.e.l.l on earth. If the demons are at the Gate, then Cowl has to be stopped before he sacrifices the next victim."

Tocho got up and paced the floor. "Stopped," he said, echoing Ravenwood's own word. "You mean, as in killed, right? Murdered?"

Ravenwood leveled a look at him without answering.

"And who's gonna do it, Ro? You? You're just gonna walk into the hospital room and... what? Shoot him? Suffocate him with his crisp white pillow? C'mon."

"I don't know."

"Well, what, then?"

"I just told you, I don't know. I just know it has to be done. You know I'm right."

Tocho pulled a faded red bandana from his back pocket and patted the sweat off his forehead. He moved over to the window and kicked the ancient air-conditioning unit. "d.a.m.ned thing. Works fine when you don't need it."

"Tocho, come on. You know I'm right."

He gave a reluctant nod. "Yeah, I know. If it's true."

"Exactly. That's what I need to find out." She got up and moved across the floor to the window. She gazed out at the black sky. It was littered with stars. A red neon glow from the casino lit up the ground directly below the window. "So...?" she said.

Tocho took a deep breath and caught a hint of her tantalizing fragrance. Even when they were kids he fantasized about being more than just friends. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and leaned back against the wall. "So... What?"

"So, are you going to help me or not?"

He pushed himself away from the wall and went back to the couch. He sat down and poured himself another shot of tequila. "I don't think I can," he said.

Ravenwood c.o.c.ked her head. "What? Why not?"

"I mean, this is way beyond what I can do, you know? Yeah, I can mix the concoction but you're going to need a guide for a trip like this. Someone with a lot more experience than I have, that's for sure. I mean, what you're talking about doing is dangerous as h.e.l.l. This is life or death s.h.i.+t, here. You know it as well as I do." He shook his head. "I just can't be responsible for seeing you through it. Or," he added, "for failing to see you through it."

Ravenwood stood silent for a minute and then turned back to the window. Then she spun around, facing him. "What about the Owl Man?"

"What?"

"Your mentor. The Owl Man."

"What about him?"

"You know where he is, right?"