Carnival Of Mayhem Part 46

Ethel nodded. "Search the truck. Maybe our enemies left a clue behind. But be very careful. Don't forget they like poisons and traps."

"I'll check the cab, ma'am. Marina, can you check the trailer?"

Marina nodded. "Sure."

"And I'll watch the street." Ethel walked away.

Aaron looked into the cab through the driver's side window. The keys were still in the ignition, but otherwise, there was nothing remarkable or apparently dangerous about the brown vinyl interior.

Suspicious, he decided to try a different perspective. He climbed onto the hood and looked straight down through the winds.h.i.+eld. He spotted a hand grenade wedged between the door and the seat. If he had opened the door, he would be dead now. Nasty trick.

He kicked the winds.h.i.+eld with both his legs. The laminated gla.s.s was strong, but after several hard blows it gave way.

He wanted to check the glove compartment, so he carefully pried it open with a combat knife, keeping his hands away. A spring-loaded dart shot out and hit the seat. The needle tip was coated with a brown substance. Still using the knife, he fished out the contents of the glove compartment. He only found maps, registration, and insurance papers.

Suddenly, the entire truck lurched. There was a loud, metallic crunch, as if a very heavy object had landed on it. Car alarms began to wail.

He scrambled off the hood and ran around to the back of the truck. The rear doors were blown out and twisted.

"Marina!" he yelled.

"Over here," she replied. "I'm OK."

She was hiding behind a dumpster, unharmed. She stood up.

He sighed with relief. "What happened?"

"I tried to pop open the doors with a small charge. Obviously, there was a bomb inside."

He looked into the back of the truck and saw it was completely empty. "Where the h.e.l.l is the poisoned beer?"

"I have no idea," Marina said.

Ethel ran over and said, "Let's go. Everybody in the neighborhood heard that explosion. The police will be here any second."

The three of them walked briskly away.

"Where are we going, ma'am?" Aaron said.

"I'm not sure," she said. "Keep your eyes open."

"We have to find the beer."

"I know."

They reached the street and headed south. The sidewalks were crowded and the general flow was towards the baseball game, but plenty of people were headed the other way. Everywhere he looked, Aaron saw cups of beer. It smelled like a party even with a cool breeze blowing.

Wrigley Field was directly ahead. The "Friendly Confines" was built from steel beams arranged in a regular grid. Walls of brick filled some of the square s.p.a.ces and others were left open. The austere architecture was elegant. It was clearly a place for nothing other than baseball.

Aaron noticed a man carrying a cup with the "Mooseland" logo on it. He ran over and asked, "Where did you get that beer?"

"Up Clark Street. They're giving it away."

"For free?" Aaron raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah," the man said, "but if you want some, you'd better hurry. It's going fast."

Aaron smacked the poisoned beer out of the man's hand.

"Hey! You a.s.shole!"

Aaron looked at Ethel and Marina. "Run."

They sprinted over to Clark Street and turned north. The heavy pedestrian traffic kept getting in the way. They were forced onto the street to maintain a good pace. Fortunately, there was no danger of getting hit by a car. The mother of all traffic jams had spread across the entire neighborhood.

It didn't take long to find the source of free beer. A thick crowd was packed into an empty lot near a park. A big, hand painted banner read, "The Mooseland Brewery celebrates the Chicago Cubs!"

"This is a nightmare," Ethel said.

Aaron nodded. He pressed forward into the crowd, which grew even thicker towards the center. Everybody had beer, sometimes more than one cup. He tried not to let any of the poison slosh onto his skin from the constant jostling. It's a death party, he thought.

In the center of the mob, three men stood on a low platform. They had a huge stack of beer kegs and were filling cups as quickly as they could. Aaron recognized two young men from the security video in the brewery. The third had a sunset symbol drawn on his forehead with scars instead of ink. He had to be Harbinger. He was a tall, athletic man with a very masculine face. All three wore Mooseland caps and T-s.h.i.+rts.

"I'm open to suggestions," Ethel said.

She, Marina, and Aaron put their heads together so they could speak quietly and still be heard. It seemed like everybody in the crowd was yelling drunkenly about the Cubs.

"We could just stab the Eternals and run," Marina said.

"No," Ethel said. "Too many witnesses. We may have to wait until the beer is gone and the crowd disperses so we can deal with the enemy discreetly."

"Every cup is another death," Aaron said. "We have to stop this insanity now."

"You sound like Smythe," Ethel said.

He shrugged. "That doesn't make me wrong, ma'am. I could use a smoke grenade to clear the crowd."

"And start a stampede?"

"If we do nothing, everybody will die, anyway."

"No," she said. "We might lose the enemy in the chaos. Instead, we'll quietly walk up to them, stick a gun in their ribs, and escort them away. I'll take Harbinger. Marina, you take the man on the left. Aaron, you take the man on the right. If they run, chase them. Understood?"

Aaron and Marina nodded.

"We'll need a distraction," Ethel said. "I want all the civilians looking the other way. Aaron, that's your job. Marina and I will stay here."

"Yes, ma'am." He turned around and pushed through the crowd to get out.

Once he could move freely, he looked around. The nearby park gave him an idea. It was full of big, old trees that still carried many yellow, red, and brown leaves.

He went to a tree and crouched behind it so he wouldn't be seen. Then, he took a small square of C-4 from under his coat. He pressed the soft white putty into a s.p.a.ce between the thick roots. He attached an electronic detonator and set the timer for five minutes. Finally, he covered it with sticks and leaves.

He hurried back to rejoin his comrades.

"Two and a half minutes left," he told Ethel after checking his watch.

She nodded.

Marina moved through the crowd towards the left side of the platform, Aaron went right, and Ethel remained in the middle. Aaron reached into his coat and grabbed his pistol without drawing it. The rubber grip felt just right in his hand.

Harbinger suddenly stretched his arms up and yawned. With a broad smile he looked at the crowd all around him.

His eyes focused on Ethel, and his smile vanished.

"Run!" he yelled. "Go!"

The Eternals scattered, going in three different directions.

Ethel slipped through the thick crowd like a snake gliding through tall gra.s.s. The human obstacles appeared almost stationary in her eyes. She merely had to walk in the narrow s.p.a.ces between them. By the time they reacted to her fleeting presence, she was already three steps away.

Harbinger, on the other hand, was shoving people left and right as he struggled to escape. She followed him as easily as a cat chasing a snail. Even though she could've killed him with a quick knife thrust, she didn't. There were too many witnesses around. "Discretion" was the watchword in all Society operations.

Besides, she wanted to have a conversation with him. She liked to learn as much as possible about each enemy as preparation for the next one. She could never have too much information about the opposition.

Harbinger reached the open street and sprinted north. The skin on his head became pale as all the blood rushed to his muscles. Ethel observed his gait was slightly uneven. Lumps under his T-s.h.i.+rt suggested he carried concealed weapons, probably knives and handguns. She jogged a couple of paces behind him. To her, the chase seemed like a lackadaisical stroll.

Ethel caught up to him. When he saw her, his eyes opened wide. The muscles on his right arm tensed. She guessed he was about to reach for a weapon. His hand began to move towards his waist. She jabbed him in the right elbow with her fingertips, striking the ulnar nerve. The attack was quick and subtle enough that the people around them probably wouldn't notice.

Harbinger clenched his right hand tightly. He was undoubtedly experiencing intense pain. His pace slowed down.

"Keep moving," she commanded. "Don't stop."

He stopped walking. "I don't take orders from you."

She grabbed his middle finger and twisted until it dislocated. He tried to push her away, but she evaded easily and he only managed to swat the air. She used the injured finger as leverage to force him to walk. To a witness, it would appear she was just holding his hand.

"Yes, you do," she said.

Aaron's bomb exploded behind them. Harbinger looked back. Ethel used the finger to keep him moving forward at a steady pace.

"Who are you?" he said through clenched teeth.

"I told you before. I'm the wrath of the Lord."

"What's your real name?"

She shook her head. "You may address me as ma'am."

She felt a familiar rush of exhilaration, and the world became much brighter. She saw the finest details of every beautiful blade of gra.s.s. Men and women glowed with spiritual power. The relations.h.i.+ps between them became visible as a s.h.i.+fting web of energy. She heard the heartbeat of the universe as it evolved towards its destiny. The Presence had come to witness the climax of the mission.

"You will die," Harbinger said.

"Yes," Ethel said, "eventually."

"Very soon. I'm a highly skilled a.s.sa.s.sin. I've killed many people. If you were smart, you'd be afraid of me."

She smiled. "You saw me fight yesterday evening."

"Yes."

"And you still think I should be afraid of you?"

He looked down and was silent.

"And I'm not even the most dangerous person in my organization," she added. "That honor falls to a man named Carlos, who lives in Mexico City. You're just a cupcake by comparison."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I'm protecting G.o.d's world."

"By saving lives?" He snorted. "The universe was sterile when it began. When the stars burn out, it will become sterile again. Life is a transient aberration, a meaningless blip in the darkness. Death is the natural order. Death is G.o.d's will."

"You're wrong. Life is the meaning of the universe. The world exists so we can exist. We are intelligent and creative. What happens after we're gone is irrelevant. Even G.o.d will turn away then."

"Life doesn't matter! Everything turns to dust in the end. 'And on the pedestal these words appear: my name is Ozymandias, king of kings, look on my works, ye mighty, and despair! Nothing beside remains. Round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, the lone and level sands stretch far away.'"

Ethel shook her head. "Quoting Sh.e.l.ley won't impress me." She pointed at a young couple holding hands. "Those two love each other. They don't care about what happens a thousand years from now."

"We all die because G.o.d wants us dead," Harbinger said.

"If G.o.d wanted us dead, we would be dead now. We are His greatest achievement. Except in your sad case. If you have any last words, speak them."

The pedestrian traffic was thinning out. She began to look for a nice, private spot to end Harbinger's life.

"The Order of Eternal Night has many members," he said. "They will carry on without me."

"Not likely. We already killed a lot of them, and we'll hunt down the rest. That's what we do."

"I thought you protected life."

"Sometimes you have to destroy the cancer," she said.

The Presence moved within her, angry and impatient. Her hands began to flex on their own. I have to finish this now.

She pointed to a narrow, shaded alley between two apartment buildings. "That way." She twisted his finger to make sure he complied.