Nexus Rising
CE Savage
Chapter 1
Friday late evening
Early March
Blues Roadhouse
Near Harborton Washington
The beat up blue Jeep Cherokee pulled off the highway and into the parking lot and around to the side where the dense forest of fir and hemlock pushed against the cracked and potholed pavement. The driver backed and filled the vehicle until the towed wood chipper attached to the rear of the vehicle faced its chute pointed out over the forest floor.
The flickering neon beer signs of the shambling wooden structure cast shimmering snakes of red and blue onto the pothole puddles still lingering from the afternoon’s rain as the driver stepped out on 3 inch heels and began clicking her way toward the front door. The slender, pony-tailed blond counted six bikes parked right by the front entrance and nodded.’Looks like they’re all here’ she thought as she straightened her short pink leather vest and pulled open the battered and chipped metal door.
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It had been a really slow night for Lanie. She had to work by herself for the last shift and she was just a little bored. Her only entertainment had been ‘chatting’ with the huge gray tom cat that had snuck in the door earlier.
She tried to give the kitty some milk and she could swear he actually turned his nose up at the bowl and pointed to the beer taps! She just shook her head and started to pour out some Budweisser. At that, the huge cat had what almost looked like a stroke and a really bad hair ball simultaneously. On a hunch, she put her hand on the tap with their only import beer, Harp Ale. The kittie recovered quickly, purring furiously as he stropped her ankles with his striped gray- furred body. Lanie laughed to herself, shrugged and had poured out a generous tot into the bowl. The cat quickly lapped it all up, finishing with a loud burp.
The cat’s strange antics had been the highlight of an otherwise extremely dull night. She sighed, If the bike bozo’s hadn’t made this place known as their Friday night hang out there might have been some decent traffic in the old tavern tonight. But then Lanie wouldn’t have been able to do her job either.
She had just finished delivering round five to the leather clad bikers sitting at the table closest to the pool table when the decrepit door at the front of the place screeched open and in walked a Barbie Doll personified. Her bronze tinted blond ponytail bounced playfully about her shoulders as she strode up to the bar.
“Shit. here goes my whole night,” Lanie muttered under her breath as she reached under the bar and loosened the sawed off Remington 12 gauge in its clip.
‘Barbie’ was quite a sight. She looked almost like any typical teenage girl that you might see congregating at the mall or movie theater. She had an innocent ‘girl next door’ beauty with a smattering of tiny freckles across her nose overlooked by sparkling gem-like sapphire blue eyes.
It was only when you looked closer that the Barbie image wavered a bit. First of all, this girl was ripped. She had the muscle tone of an Olympic athlete. The long legs barely covered by her brief pink pleated skirt rippled with muscle. And the arms shown off by her short sleeved white silk blouse displayed the hard, dense but elegant looking musculature that serious female athletes developed. If not for her height and her rather hefty bust she could have easily passed as a world class gymnast. And then there was an air about her of ultimate confidence. She moved like she was the apex predator here, not the overweight jerkoffs eyeing her like they were wolves and she but a wayward, innocent, fluffy, little sheep.
Lanie thought quickly. Maybe she could get Barbie out of here before the idiots by the pool table were prodded into action by the single brain cell they shared. There was no way that this girl was old enough to drink. Maybe I can shoo her out before the excrement hits the rotating blades Lanie hoped. These bikers were morons, but very dangerous morons. They had collectively been accused several times of rape and murder but nothing had stuck, especially since any witnesses had a tendency to disappear or change their stories.
‘Barbie’ crossed the warped unvarnished wooden floor boards straight to the bar and pulled up a stool in front of Lanie.
“I’d like a Budweisser please,” said ‘Barbie’ with a brilliant smile.
Lanie could hear the cat behind the bar apparently hacking up another fur ball at the mention of Budweisser.
“Um, sure. Let’s see some id sweetie,” Lanie said, flicking her medium length, dyed blue-black hair out of her face and setting her damp towel down on the bar.
Lanie’s hopes of a peaceful evening were dashed as ‘Barbie’ withdrew a slim wallet from her small purse and flipped it open to show what looked like a completely legitimate drivers license that showed the girl to be 21 and 3 months of age. Lanie had seen plenty of fakes in her day but if this id were fake it was the best one she’d ever laid eyes on.
“So your name is Sarah, right?” Lanie asked skeptically.
“Yep, that’s me!” Sarah chirped cheerfully.
“Er Sarah, my name is Lanie. And I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but you need to get the fuck out of here,” said Lanie quietly.
“Lanie, thank you for the warning, I can see you mean well, but I’m going to be fine.” said Sarah as she began casting around for some way to make her point. “Ah here we go!” said Sarah as she leaned over the bar to pick up a steak knife from a set of tableware.
Lanie had no idea why they even had steak knives. This place hadn’t seen a steak since the pioneers had built this place out of what had been a canvas and pole shanty. In any case, Lanie watched fascinated as Sarah flipped the knife a few times, seeming to try and get its measure. Then, in a movement so quick that it was barely possible to detect, Sarah’s arm twitched. A millisecond or two later Lanie heard a thunk through the open door to the kitchen behind her.
Lanie whirled and could see the handle of the steak knife 30 feet away still quivering as it protruded out from between Miss October’s gravity defying 42 DD’s . ‘Always hated that stupid calendar anyway’, was Lanie’s first thought followed by ‘holy shit snacks!’
“How did you do that!” Lanie exclaimed.
“I have some talents.” smiled Sarah enigmatically. “Anyhow, that’s not important. I just want you to know that I’m fine. Whatever these cumstains do, just let it happen. I don’t want you to get hurt by trying to interfere. I also need you to trust me Lanie Coleman. I know what your job is, and I promise what’s going to happen next will help your efforts,” Sarah finished with a small smile looking straight into Lanie’s intensely intelligent green eyes.
“Uh how…never mind I guess. If you know who I am and why I’m here I’m either already blown or you are one of the good guys I just don’t have clearance to know about,” Lanie said resignedly.
For some reason though, Lanie did trust this girl. Lanie had spent most of her ten year career with the DEA undercover and trust did not come easy to her, but this girl just radiated something. If Lanie hadn’t been so cynical she would have said ‘goodness’. But not in a unicorn and puppy dog sense. Lanie just knew that this girl could no more do something truly evil than Lanie could fly to the moon on gossamer wings.
“Okay, I’ll try but you have to let me know what’s going on!” Lanie said under her breath.
“Promise, I will girlfriend ! Just as soon as I can wrap this up,” said Sarah sweetly with a genuine smile.
By this time the two hardy customers that had come in despite the bikers having taken up residence in the old tavern had left for parts unknown. Lanie thought they must have sensed the drama about to happen.
Lanie saw the fat fuck known as ‘Big Jim’ give a signal to one of his minions. This minion was tall and skinny with a filthy black beard nearly down to his stomach. Black Beard guy casually strolled over to the front door and locked it with a loud snick. Another biker that Lanie had dubbed ‘Pretty Boy’ nonchalantly stepped to the back door and locked it as well, simultaneously hitting the main light switch that turned off the outside signage. Shit, thought Lanie, she knew they had done something similar to this several months ago, before she got assigned this case. It hadn’t ended well for the college kids that had mistakenly entered the bar that night. What she didn’t understand is why the owner tolerated this kind of bullshit.
Pretty Boy turned his artfully stubbled face to look directly at Sarah for the first time.“Time to party!” he said with an evil grin.
If the bikers had expected Sarah to be frightened they were about to be very disappointed.
“Awesome! I love a party . Are we going to play twister? Or maybe spin the bottle? There’s only two girls here but I bet you five are used to swapping spit with each other so that won’t be a problem,“ Sarah said cheerfully as she spun on her stool and faced them.
It took them all a few seconds to understand any of what she had just said. Finally the insult percolated to the forefront of Big Jim’s tiny brain and he stood with a huff. He maneuvered his six feet six 400lb frame just to the right of where Sarah sat and threw a ham sized forearm atop the bar. Sarah could smell his rancid breath as leaned slightly toward her.
“Lanie, don’t you try reaching for that scattergun or I’ll have to paint the mirror with your insides” Big Jim sneered looking sideways at Lanie while pulling his putrid leather vest aside showing a chrome plated .45 resting in a shoulder harness.
Lanie didn’t respond, she just threw her hands in the air and took a step back from the bar. She could feel a low rumbling at her feet as the fluff monster cat at her feet started a not-so-subtle growl.
“And now we are going to see how this little missy really likes to party,” Big Jim exclaimed loudly, stepping back from the bar slightly.
“Little missy? Really? Did we just teleport back to a 1950’s Western?” quipped Sarah saucily.
“I’ll show you a Western!” said a baffled but aggressive Big Jim as he moved slightly away from the bar and undid his pants.
“Yeah you show her that Western Jim!” shouted one of the sycophants at the table.
“Oh! Can’t wait!” said Sarah with a wicked grin.
Big Jim fumbled down his jeans and his yellow stained tidy whities all the while mumbling something about snotty princesses. Finally, in triumph he reached into a fat roll and retrieved an appendage that looked somewhat like vienna sausage crossed with a very small pink hoho.
“Suckit B…” Big Jim started to say but was interrupted by Sarah’s hysterical giggling.
“Woah! What is that!” Sarah continued giggling, pointing at Big Jim’s prize as he sputtered impotently, “It looks almost like a penis only waaay smaller!” Sarah snarked.
Big Jim had finally had enough and with a roar threw a right hook that would have felled a water buffalo. A really slow, stupid water buffalo, which Sara was not. By the time Big Jim’s fist had arrived at its would be destination Sarah was already standing behind him where she used the momentum of his flailing punch to spin him toward the bar. Then she deftly kicked the back of his left knee collapsing it neatly as that was where all his weight had ended up after the punch. Big Jim folded like a Sears monkey suit and Sarah assisted him on the way down by grabbing a handful of long greasy gray hair and using it as a hand hold to slam his forehead into the edge of the bar.
That bar had seen some serious shit. It had originally been installed in a bar in Abilene Texas in 1872 and any number of drunken cowboys, gunfighters and gamblers had been slammed into or onto it in its un-illustrious history. But none of them had ever hit it with the force that Big Jim did. The walls of the old building literally vibrated from the shock.
As Big Jim slipped to the sticky floor a half inch deep divot in the solid rock maple trim was revealed.
“Dayum!” said another of the sycophants at the table, too stunned to move.
But Sarah wasn’t done. Big Jim hadn’t gone all the way to floor yet when she took two long gliding steps to the pool table picked up the cue ball, pivoted like a second basemen on a double play and fired it toward the back of the bar where Pretty Boy was fast approaching with his 9mm semi automatic pistol halfway drawn. Maybe it was more accurate to say, ‘the thug formerly known as Pretty Boy’ because there wasn’t much pretty left about his face as he nearly swallowed the cue ball along with most of his pearly whites. The scene played out like one of those cartoons where the character slams into something with his head and his feet keep moving. His feet took one more step while his entire upper body flipped backwards onto the floor.
Black Beard who had been stationed near the front door finally was getting the feeling that all was not well in Denmark and had just started to draw and raise his own 9mm pistol when Sarah whirled yet again back in his direction. The 2 sycophants at the table were still trying to cerebrate how to untangle themselves from their chairs as Sarah picked up a cue stick from the table and hurled it underhanded like a spear 15 feet away and right into Black Beards crotch.
Black Beards body couldn’t decide whether to fold itself in half, vomit or, spray excrement wildly, so it did all three simultaneously as he too fell to the grimy wood, his pistol spinning away into a corner.
The two sitting at the table were finally able to work out that they were totally outclassed so they just sat back down open mouthed and put their hands on their heads. The big cat trotted out from behind the bar and went to each of the downed men, lifted his leg and pissed on their faces. Lanie could swear she ‘heard’ him laugh as he did so.
“Boys, boys, boys! Are we having fun yet? Because this is my kind of party!” said Sarah with a cackle.
Lanie was stunned. “You gotta teach me how to do that!” she finally said to the accompaniment of crying and moans coming from the floor.
“I think I’m slipping a bit. Looks like I chipped a nail. Dang it anyhow,” Sarah smiled as she carefully examined the pink coated nails on her right hand.
Sarah, following her training, carefully checked the five bikers for other weapons. She threw the pistols, blackjacks, several knives and a very rare Pokemon card onto a stack on the bar. As she worked, she drew a bundle of heavy duty zip ties from her rosy pink Kate Spade purse and bound each of the biker’s hands.. She then drug them by the feet until they were neatly arrayed near the rear door. Lanie couldn’t believe how easily she man-handled (or rather girl-handled) their bulk.
“Okay Lanie, you might want to go ahead and leave for this bit. It will probably get pretty illegal here in a minute.”
“No, that's okay. I’m good. I’ve gotta see this.” said an awestruck Lanie.
“Oh hey, I counted 6 bikes out there. I thought the big boss would be here as well?’ said Sarah.
“One of those is mine,” said Lanie with a small grin.
“Cool! Well I think we can get what we need from these goombahs,” Sarah said returning Lanie’s grin.
Sarah then reached over and flipped the exterior signage lights off and on twice, propped open the rear door and then waited until a little yellow station wagon pulled up next to the wood chipper. Several black clad figures piled out. Sarah reached back into her amazing purse and pulled out another surprise, smelling salts. She then proceeded to make sure that the bikers were alert enough to respond and then propped them up into sitting positions facing the rear door.
Lanie had the weird feeling that someone that had been standing next to her as she felt movement that then flowed out of the open rear door as Sarah took position in front of the stunned men. Lanie just knew there was much more going on here than she could rationally account for as the tom cat followed the phantom figure out the door.
“Okay listen up all you numbnuts. First, all but one of you are going to die tonight. And it’s not going to be an easy death. Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of torturing you for days like you deserve, though. See that wood chipper out there. We are going to put all but one of you into it feet first . Now you are probably asking yourself how do I become the lucky one? How do I not get grindy teeth up my hoohah ?” Sarah paused for dramatic effect after sending Lanie a secret wink. “It’s simple really. Just tell me where the women and girls that were smuggled in on Wednesday are currently being kept.”
The first one to tell me and speak the truth wins,” Sarah grinned, “Now you may also be asking yourself, what if I just lie? I don’t get in trouble with the big boss and I can skate,” Sarah paused again. Well you see I have this,” Sarah said as she pulled a glowing yellow fang pendant from her blouse. “This is brand new high tech CIA grade shit and it will tell me if you are lying or not.”
The bikers all broke out at once with denials and accusations and vague threats.
“Boys, boys! I thought you’d be taking me more seriously after the whuppin’ I just put on your smelly asses, but no, I guess I’m going to have to make an example out of one of you,” At this they all shut up quickly.
“Eenie, Meenie, Meinie Moe… Ah fuckit! I pick you. You look the lightest weight and I think you’re the only one that hasn’t crapped his pants yet.”
At that, Sarah pulled one of the hapless bikers to his feet by the collar and the back of his jeans and pushed him out the door as he protested and struggled. Just outside a couple of black clad figures took control of the hapless biker and frog marched him toward the chipper. Someone outside turned on a worklight and soon after they heard the chipper start up.
A few minutes later they all could see the struggling biker held over the woodchipper feed screaming. Then his legs were forced down into the hopper and the scream turned into a hideous shrieking sound that was straight out of Hell. The four remaining Bikers could see a stream of bright blood and particles of meat spewing out onto the forest floor from the chipper.
Finally the shrieks turned into wet gurgles and then stopped. The chipper shut off.
Lanie knew something was up but it was so real! Surely this sweet teen (21 one my ass, she thought) wouldn’t be a party to something so brutal. Her mind kept going in circles of belief-disbelief. She could only imagine what the bikers were thinking.
``Okay, who's next for the party fun machine?” smiled a ‘chipper’ Sarah.
The bikers couldn’t talk fast enough. Each one trying to claim to be the first with the most information. Lanie thought they probably could have found Jimmy Hoffa’s body and the lost Super Bowl hopes of the Seattle Seahawks if they had persisted long enough. Sara was recording it all on a tiny digital recorder she had extracted from the bowels of her miracle Barbie purse.
“Okay, Okay. I’ll make you all a deal. Tell Lanie here anything she wants to know and I’ll stand by with my truth device. Whoever gives her the best info get’s to live. The rest of you, not so much…”Sarah smirked as she motioned Lanie to begin the questioning.
Lanie dug right in and was quickly able to get info her team had been trying to extract for years. Maybe not all of it would be admissible in court, but she really wasn’t that worried about it. Taking a page from the biker gang’s notebook and flipping it, Lanie would just threaten them with Sarah if they didn’t agree to testify.
Lanie was wrapping up the questioning when it occurred to her that Sarah had perked up when she had questions about fentanyl smuggling. Lanie looked a question at Sarah.
‘’Lanie I’ll get in touch later, I have some friends who might be able to get you some more info,” whispered Sarah.
“Okay let’s wrap this party up. I have a history test to study for and my teacher is a real slave driver,” Sarah said with a secret inner smile.
“Who won?” said Big Jim in a shaky voice.
“Actually, I lied. All you bozo’s are going into the chipper. Hey, look at the positive side. Your life will at last have meaning. You’ll all be excellent fertilizer for those trees,” Sarah said with a smirk. Now get moving” she said grimly as she motioned them to their feet with a small flat Walther pistol she had drawn from her magic sparkle purse.
As Sarah marched them out the door they were crying until snot bubbles formed on their faces all the while begging and groveling for their lives. Lanie could tell Sarah had zero sympathy for them. Lanie had read what they had done to their many victims and she suspected that Sarah had too.
Lanie followed closely behind Sarah as they walked out across the parking lot and rounded the chipper. In front of them on the ground was half a pig carcass, an elaborate sound system and the first biker, naked and shivering. Terrified to death, but alive. The dark figures of the rest of Sarah’s team remained in the shadows.
“I was just joshing with you fellas, nobody dies…tonight,” Sarah laughed cruelly as she stepped in front of them. “Now look at me closely. If you don’t do as Lanie here says or if you go back on what you told her. I will personally hunt you down and you’ll wish I ran you through the chipper instead. Comprende? Actually you assholes are getting off easy. I almost wish that you would break your word,” Sarah turned away disgusted.
“Hey Lanie, they are all yours. If we see that it doesn’t go down like it should. My team will be back in touch. We will be following up on the trafficked girls now that we have a location. If you could give us 10 minutes to get clear, that would be great,” Sarah smiled and stuck out her hand.
Lanie ignored Sarah’s hand and gave her a hug instead. “Thanks so much. We have tried for years to get these murderous assholes put away. Look, I don’t know who you are, or what organization you belong to, but I want in! I’m just about as fed up as I can be with arresting scum like this and then watching them skate out a few days later. I can help I’m sure,” she pleaded.
“Hmmm okay, let me think about it and talk it over with my people. If it looks good we’ll be in touch Lanie .” Sarah said with a smile and a wave over her shoulder as she walked to the old Cherokee.
Chapter 2
The previous Wednesday late evening
Sarah’s House
Harborton, Washington
Sarah jolted awake from her deep sleep and immediately bounced out of bed to the small desk against the far wall of her typical girly girl bedroom. She switched on the small desk light, pulled out a small tablet of paper and a pen and started writing and sketching furiously.
She had received an urgent message/dream from Waghoba, her goddess mother. It was mostly a jumbled mess in her mind but some details were crystal clear. The dream had appeared to her as if she were a participant and began with impressions of a small village in what felt like a tropical climate. She had been walking along a dirt road when she was violently grabbed by rough hands, pulled off of her feet and thrown into the back of a canvas covered truck. There were what looked like a dozen or so other girls and young women in the truck with her. In her dream state Sarah struggled and fought until a rough sack was pulled over her head and she felt a hard blow to the back of her head and then there was blackness.
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When dream Sarah came to she was in a large metal container with thirty to forty other women. She could feel the pitch and roll of the ocean and smell salt spray through the taint of diesel oil and the overpowering stench of people in too close contact with each other with no toilets and no way to clean themselves.
The rest of the journey in the metal box was an abbreviated jumble where all she could remember doing was praying hopelessly to her village protector for help and trying to keep from throwing up the small amount of rice and water that was passed into them daily.
It was impossible to tell time exactly, but it was evening when they received their last rice and water. Shortly after that the motion of the ship calmed to almost nothing and she could hear the sound of smaller boats approaching.
Rough men of indeterminate origins with filthy hands and clothes and leering grins herded the women down a steep,pitching, wooden gangplank onto the small boats in groups of eight and ten. One woman who had been violently ill for several days and couldn’t keep her feet, slipped and tumbled between the rope rails into the water below. None of the men made any effort to help her as her feeble cries echoed up from the water. By the time Sarah’s dream presence was shoved down to the boat, the woman’s cries had fallen silent.
The smaller boats ran from the ship toward the far shore for what felt like at least an hour. Their destination was a decrepit wooden wharf in a small rocky cove with a steep heavily forested shoreline. There were more rough looking men on the dock to take charge of them. These men were mostly bearded and wore greasy looking jeans and strange looking leather jackets. Her dream self was terrified to see a bright red, horned demon figure emblazoned on the back of each of these jackets.
The demon men pushed and shoved them up the steep hill. Any of them that fell or staggered out of line were beaten with extendable metal rods. Finally, they reached the top and were again forced into trucks. A short time later they were dropped off in a gravel lot surrounded by forest lit by work lights on tall poles. Sarah’s dream self couldn’t see any lights or hear any road noise so she guessed that they were at a very remote location.
As soon as the last girl had reached the gravel the men began bellowing out commands in a variety of languages. None of them were hers though. Thankfully she had learned a little English from the village school and was able to make out some of what was said. Other’s weren’t so lucky.
“Get those filthy clothes off now you skanky whores. NOW!” said a large fat demon man.
Any of the women who didn’t immediately start undressing in the cold night air were beaten across the back and buttocks. The woman standing next to her was crying so hard that she didn’t immediately start stripping. A tall skinny demon man with a matted black beard nearly down to his stomach immediately stepped behind the unfortunate woman and beat her to the ground until blood was flying off of the backs of her legs.
“Easy on the merchandise Jimbo! If she scars too badly no one will want her and our investment will have to go into the disposal dumpster,” The fat demon man admonished with an evil smile.
Once they were all naked, they were lined up and two of the demon men sprayed the freezing women with high pressure water hoses. Sarah’s dream self was already so detached from her body that she just stood there numbly, she couldn’t even bring herself to react.
A few minutes later the 40 women were all standing there naked, shivering under the harsh lights too full of despair to care much what happened next.
“Okay boys, you each can pick one for the next few days. But don’t damage her too much. There’s a very limited market for the ones that are marked. And none that might be virgins! We get extra for those.“ the fat demon announced.
The demon men surged forward and yanked women out of the line. One of them chose a girl who couldn’t have been more than 12.
“Naw put her back Tony. You know better than that. She’ll bring 15k easy to the right buyer.’ the Fat demon admonished.
“Aw fer fuck sake, alright I’ll take this one instead,” said a stubble faced demon man.
Sarah’s dream persona was terrified as the man reached out and grabbed her by the arm, roughly jerking her next to him. He spun her around examining her like a goat in the marketplace.
“Goddammit, she’s bleeding like a stuck pig. That’s disgusting.” the stubble faced demon said as he shoved her roughly back into line and went to choose another.
Sarah’s dream persona said a prayer to her guardian goddess as she glanced down and could see the menstrual blood seeping from between her thighs.. She hadn’t even realized that she had begun her moon time.
The women were next crowded toward a pallet with a stack of thin gray cotton shifts and rough blankets where they were allowed one each. They were not given time to don the shifts before they were forced into yet another large metal container with a wooden pallet floor.
As soon as the last woman cleared the doors they were slammed closed and she could hear the bars sliding into place and a lock clicking shut. Their new home was freezing cold with only a small dim lantern hanging from the ceiling for light and a stinking bucket for their wastes.
As the exhausted women huddled together toward the back of the container, hugging each other for warmth, Sarah’s dream persona began praying like she never had before. Surely Waghoba, protector of the jungle and her village could help? Waghoba had many times protected Eesha’s small village from brigands and thieves and even from rogue creatures of the jungle itself.
The Tiger Goddess must help!
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At last Sarah felt that she had written down and sketched all the details that she could possibly remember. She felt that she had enough for Lizzy to work with. Over the last couple of months Lizzy had managed to hack into nearly every major law enforcement network both local and regional. There must be a way of tracking the motorcycle gang down from their insignia. They had to be local. Sarah recognized the cove and the old wooden wharf from when her dad had taken her salmon fishing near Port Jonesby last year.
She knew that this was extremely urgent. She had to call the group together. These women were likely to be moved quickly and then any leads they had would vanish. She could feel that these women were soon in for an even worse fate than sexual servitude. Sarah and her friends had to save them. Save the women and then destroy the evil assholes who were behind this.
This is exactly the work they were meant to do.
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The previous Thursday afternoon.
Ben’s house
Harborton, Washington.
Plans for the big move to the Nexus ranch were put on hold as Ben and the girls gathered around his kitchen table in an emergency session. They had all met as soon as possible to hear what Lizzy had been able to dig up on the traffickers that Sarah dreamt of the night before.
“Okay, here’s what we have so far,” said Lizzy. “I was able to pull up law enforcement’s gang database and use that to identify the organization that Sarah saw in her dream based on her sketch. I’ve also found dozens of investigative reports on them. Their leadership must be a lot smarter than their rank and file though, because they’ve never been convicted of any major crimes.”
“Or they have some serious protection,” added Mei, thoughtfully.
“Yeah, that's always a possibility we have to consider,” said Lizzy. “It looks like we are dealing with the Outlaw Demons. They’ve only been on the scene for about 5 years and have primarily been minor league drug runners and enforcers for hire. The human trafficking angle must be recent, there’s nothing in the reports about it. I do see where they took a hit when we removed the fentanyl pipeline from China. The state’s Gang Intelligence Unit says it’s likely that they have recently moved back into meth production and distribution.”
“Sounds like a lovely lot,” said Ben.
“Yeah, real buncha choir boys. I was able to hit some of the DEA reports as well. It looks like they have an undercover agent, Lanie Coleman, in place. She’s been keeping an eye on them as a bartender at a dive bar that’s suspected of being involved with their organization.”
“We are going to have to be careful not to step on the DEA’s toes,” said Ben.
“She’s apparently a veteran agent and pretty sharp. She mentions in her last report that she thinks the bar and the gang have recently been getting big infusions of cash from somewhere.” said Lizzy.
“That could be from the trafficking operations,” said Maria.
“Make’s sense to me. Okay any ideas on how to tackle this?” said Ben
“Well, we first need to locate where the women are being held and We don’t have time for subtlety. We could follow them, but following motorcycles is tricky and we don’t have the resources. We could try a ‘snatch and interrogate’, But these guys seem like real hard cases, squeezing them for info is going to be tough, we really need to rattle them and it has to be soon.” said Sarah
“Alright, let’s look at it this way. We need to engage them in a little cognitive dissonance. Or as SunTsu would say we need to sow Chaos in their minds,” said Lizzy.
“Lizzy I wish we had you in on the planning when I was in Afghanistan” chuckled Ben.
Lizzy gave Ben a kiss and continued, “Well the way I see it, we need to rock their world so badly that their little minds just can’t cope.” said Lizzy pushing her overly large glasses up on her fine boned face.
“Yeah, I’m with you so far,” said Ben.
“What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you describe a biker?” asked Lizzy.
“Organ donor?” smirked Kelly.
“Haha, well most people would say ‘tough’, ‘badass’ or something like that, right?” continued Lizzy. “What would happen if a bunch of real tough guys got the living shit beat out of them by a Barbie Doll?” Lizzy finished with a smile.
The table was silent for a moment and then you could see the light go on over Sarah’s head.
“Oh you mean me! Yay! I get to play!” Sarah clapped excitedly.
The table erupted in a chorus of ‘no ways’, ‘it’s too dangerous’ cries.
“Sarah we can’t have you take on these bozo’s by yourself,” said Ben grimly.
“ Puhleeze ! Ben, you’ve sparred with me, do you honestly think any of them could lay a finger on me when I boost into my Goddess mode?”
Ben had to agree. Even without boosting, not many MMA fighters would stand a chance in the ring against Sarah. She had not only been born with unnatural strength and speed but the’ Ben effect’ had amplified even those. When she activated the recent gift from her goddess he doubted there was any single fighter in the world that could take her on.
“Yes that may be true, my love, but there will likely be several of them and they will probably be armed.” replied Ben.
“It looks like the core group is only about 5 or 6 guys. They are the ones likely to have the information we need. There are several more ‘part timers’. But they are mostly just go’fers in terms of what they do with the gang,” said Lizzy.
“We can always have Mei go in with me in stealth mode for backup and Tom can maybe get us some close in recon when we determine the area of operations.” said Sarah.
“Aye, I c’n doo that Lassie!” said Tom with a flick of his gray tail.
Lizzy flipped open her laptop “Lemme check something.” she said. “Yeah here we go. It looks like the core group are known to spend every Friday at a local dive bar. It’s sort of like their morale night.”
“Perfect time to piss in their beer then!” Sarah said gleefully.
“‘Less o’ course it’s Boodwisser th’n it’s already pisswater. Might’n actually improove the taste!” said Tom with a mental smirk.
“Okay beer snobbery aside, it’s a tentative go for Friday then. But Sarah, if conditions aren’t good we’ll wait and try again. We aren’t going to be able to help them if you end up shot,” Ben said.
“Yes Ben dear,” Sarah said, batting her eyes.
Ben just laughed and gave her a kiss.
“Now let’s get the rest of this planned. What do we need to do to actually rescue them when we find them? Also what do we do when we pick them up?” Ben asked.
“Well, I got a pretty good look at the setup in my dream and I doubt they’ll have more than a token guard there. They seem to rely on the steel container and the women’s horrible condition to keep them from escaping. I think there is also a small clubhouse where they take the girls for their own disgusting personal use, “ replied Sarah.
“We could rent a bus for transport and use the new pole barn out at the ranch with some cots and canvas privacy dividers for temporary shelter. Long term, do you think you can arrange some new id’s for these women Lizzy? I don’t think we want them victimized all over again by the system.” said Kelly.
“Absolutely! Mei and I have been working on just this sort of eventuality. We have some tweaking to do yet, but the Nexus Foundation will be able to take care of them,” said Lizzy.
“Alright let’s break into our teams. I’ll want detailed plans in two hours,” Ben said.
“So does that mean that I get a break on my American Revolution essay due tomorrow?” Sarah smirked.
“Suck it up Sarah. There’s no rest for the wicked” laughed Ben. He knew she had finished it last night, he had seen it peeking out of her book bag earlier.
“Oh! I can do that too!” Sarah said with a bawdy wink.
“Focus, focus girls!” said Ben.
“Yes Dear!” They all said simultaneously.
Dammit it had been 5 months and he still couldn’t figure out how they did that!
Chapter 3
Friday late evening
Outlaw Demons Property
Outside of Port Jonesby Washington
It was drizzling as Sarah clicked off the lights of the old blue Jeep Cherokee and inched down the dirt and gravel drive that wound through soaked fir and hemlock trees. When Sarah reached the insertion point for Lizzy’s and Tom’s drop off, Lizzy silently opened the rear door cradling her Remington 700 .308 with attached night scope and slid out followed by Tom. The interior light door switch had been taped over so there was no give away light flare as she slipped away into the brush. Ben and Mei’s drop off was next.
As Sarah pulled up to where the long driveway entered the weedy clearing she did a quick review in her head of the plan they had come up with once they had left the dive bar with a firm location. Luckily, Sarah had been able to give them an approximate location from what she remembered from her dream so they had the correct topographical maps of the area and a good idea of the layout. As she slid out of the Jeep she moved her slung Sig MPX to her front and slipped a large pair of bolt cutters into her tactical pack.
Earlier Ben had quickly sketched out the plan. Kelly with a Mossburg Tactical shotgun had rear security where the driveway left the main road and was in position to warn them if other vehicles or personnel came in behind them. For this operation they had high tech communications gear with properly encrypted headsets thanks to Lizzy having re-routed a military shipment destined for the nearby Joint Base Lewis McChord. Sarah grinned to herself. Some Special Forces supply sergeant was going to be scratching his head trying to figure out what had happened to his shipment but Lizzy’s expert hacking enhanced by Athena ensured that he would find no trace of it ever having been in the system.
Maria was waiting off of the main road about a mile away with an old school bus they had managed to rent untraceably. She was showing great promise as a getaway driver although Sarah sincerely doubted that her conservative Mexican mother would approve of her recently acquired skillset.
Lizzy was going to be supplying sniper overwatch from the treeline surrounding the clearing. In the months since they had destroyed Red Dragon, Lizzy, through diligent practice at Ferg’s impromptu range, had gotten to be quite a good shot with the Remington and the night scope.
Tom’s job was to locate the sentry and give the team some close in recon before go time.
Ben and Mei were the primary assault team with their silenced Sig MPX submachine guns. It had been a real battle getting Ben to give up his old M1 Garand but Ferg had finally convinced him that unless he was going to be taking down targets at over 400 meters the Sig was a better bet especially with an easily added night scope and silencer. Ben was going to be the door kicker on the main building and Mei was tasked with taking out the sentry. With her cloaking power any sentry wouldn’t even know they were dead until they were face down in the dirt.
Sarah was going to be the one securing the area directly around the container since she probably had the clearest idea of the layout.
Finally, all was ready and at zero minute Lizzy did a quick ready check. Everyone replied with two clicks on their headset while they waited for Tom to report back in from his close in recon.
“Aye these fookin eejits hae noo security oot ah tall. I could hear the wee poor lassies in the container. Boot no soond from the large shed. Mayhap someone’s in the wee shed behind the container”. They all ‘heard’ psychically from Tom.
“Sierra you have the small shed. Mike and Bravo on the larger shed. Go,” whispered Ben into his headset.
Sarah ran swiftly toward the small shed and positioned herself quietly just to the left of the wooden door. The instant she heard Ben destroy the door to the large shed she kicked the door in front of her off its hinges and into the 10x10 interior. The cheap door flew into the far wall and fell back onto a grungy looking bed and its even grungier occupant. As he struggled to clear the door from him Sarah stepped into the room and scanned for threats.
All she could see was a small bundle of bloody rags in the corner, so she took a step forward and gave him a buttstroke to the side of his head, stunning him. She then gave another glance around the room and not sensing any further threat, rolled the naked biker onto his face and deftly zip tied his hands.
Sarah could hear Ben and Mei clearing rooms in the larger building and was just about ready to haul the naked biker out into the clearing when she heard the bundle of rags in the corner whimper.
“”Shit!” said Sarah as she strode to the corner and fell to her knees next to the bloody bundle. “Are you okay sweetie? You are safe now,” Sarah crooned.
She carefully unwrapped the rags to reveal the beautiful, dark complected face of a girl who couldn’t have been more than 13 or 14 years old. Big brown eyes stared up into hers. The girl whimpered but then as she saw that her rescuer was a woman, threw her arms around Sarah’s neck sobbing.
“Sierra, at small shed. One tango WIA one hostage WIA. We need Mike Two and Kilo here now.” sent Sarah.
“Go, go, go Mike Two and Kilo. Meet Sierra in front of the container,” sent Ben.
Sarah gently lifted the girl to her shaky feet.
“We have to get out of here and I have to get your friends out,” Sarah said gently to the girl.
Sarah doubted that the girl understood her but she let Sarah lift her to her feet and steer her out the door toward the front of the container. Sarah slid the large bolt cutters from her pack and quickly snipped the lock. She then rolled back the levers holding the double doors and pulled them open. As she did so, she felt a warm pulse at her neck and saw her goddess pendant glowing with a brilliant golden light, illuminating the dim interior and dozens of terrified faces.
“Goddess! I knew you would come!” cried a young girl of maybe seventeen as she rushed forward and threw herself at Sarah’s feet.
Sarah had no idea what to do. This was more a Kelly thing. So she did what came naturally and picked the girl off of the pallet floor and took her into a tight hug.
“S’okay you are safe now. But I am not a goddess. My name is Sarah” She whispered to the girl, but the girl would not let go of her.
Finally the slender girl relented and let Sarah step back.
“My name is Eesha, goddess.” The girl said with a small bow and a smile.
“Can you tell the others that they are safe now, but we need to leave?” Sarah asked her new admirer.
The girl stood up straight and in a clear voice and three languages repeated what Sarah had just said. The women all started murmuring and moving forward. Sarah had her friend tell them to have any with injuries make their way to one side where they could be helped right away.
Sarah was just wondering what Ben and Mei were up to when Ben spoke up.
“Sierra you got it handled? Mike and I have found a large cache of documents so we are going to search for more.” said Ben on the radio.
‘“We’ve got it handled. Mike Two and Kilo are entering the clearing now.”
The next few minutes were organized chaos as Maria and Kelly descended on the women, dispensing blankets, hot sweet drinks, basic first aid and lots of love to the abused women as they shepherded them onto the school bus.
Finally all were loaded except the girl Sarah had found in the shed and Eesha. The girl from the shed could barely walk but she refused to leave Sarah’s side. Ben and Mei had found several boxes of paperwork inexpertly hidden in the larger shed’s crawlspace and were just finishing stowing them on the bus.
“We are ready to move out here. Any recommendations on what to do about the wounded asshole in the shed?” Ben said, looking at the team.
“We could leave him but we know he would never see anything approaching justice even if we called in an anonymous tip. Not around here. I’m almost certain that the local LEO’s are on the take. He might be able to lead them back to us, but I doubt it. So we could leave him alive, even if that kind of goes against what our mission is,” Lizzy said, summing up what everyone was thinking.
“I realize that none of you went through what they did to these women and hundreds before them. Murder is the least of what they are all guilty of. Do you all trust my judgment?” Sarah asked quietly.
The other’s all murmured assent.
“My goddess is telling me to leave this up to the ones wronged. It may even help some of them eventually recover from the abuse.” said Sarah. “Eesha can you speak to this girl and ask her if she is strong enough to help us decide what to do about the wounded man in the shed?”
Eesha turned and took the young girl’s hand and spoke to her for a few minutes in a beautifully lilting language. Sarah had the strangest feeling that she knew the words but couldn’t quite remember them.
“She says that she will help, but that she hopes we will just send him to Hell,” Eesha paused,
“He raped and beat her and many others for 2 days straight, goddess. And she thinks he killed one of them that had been beaten too badly to stand.”
Sarah strode into the shack and grabbed the bound biker by his long greasy filthy hair and dragged him to where everyone on the bus could see. She forced him to his knees on the wet gravel and took her small flat Walther .32 caliber pistol from its hidden holster at her ankle. She then demonstrated to the young girl where the safety was and mimed how to prepare the pistol to shoot. She turned slightly toward Eesha.
“Eesha could you tell the girl that it is up to her what…” Sarah was interrupted by the flat snap of the Walther as the girl pumped the first round into the bikers crotch.
A loud cheer went up from inside the crowded bus. The girl then shot the biker 5 more times and finished by placing the pistol up to the still living biker’s eye and pulling the trigger. She then dropped the blood splattered pistol and flew into Sarah’s arms sobbing hysterically. Sarah gently picked up the girl’s bloody form and carried her toward the bus. Ben didn’t say a word, he just retrieved the pistol, made it safe and stowed it in one of his cargo pockets.
“Tom, any activity on the perimeter?” Ben sent psychically
“ Noothing sair . Noo reports from the wild ones either. It’s been quiet here all day according to them.” Tom replied
“Come on in then, time to head home,” said Ben
A few seconds later a gray striped figure ran across the clearing and leapt into the bus.
“Is there anything I might help with lassies?” asked Tom as he scampered up the stairs and onto the driver’s seat.
“Tom, I think this one might be better off with a furry hug buddy. I don’t think she trusts any humans yet.” Kelly said as she tried to comfort a small crying girl of about 12 in one of the front seats.
“Yes’m” replied Tom as he sprang up onto the seat next to the crying girl.
The girl’s eyes flew open as she saw the huge fierce looking cat with golden eyes staring at her. With no hesitation the girl swept Tom up in a tight hug. Tom immediately started purring loudly and rubbing his face on the girl’s tear stained cheek.
Kelly had to hold back a chuckle as she saw the fierce warrior comforting the child.
“Ben, we are ready to transport!” she called out the door.
“Okay, everyone head back to base. Mei and I will join you when we finish taking out the trash” said Ben.
Mei had already brought out a body bag and she and Ben rolled the body into it and zipped it up all the way. Then Mei helped Ben load it into the Jeep.
They still had the chipper rented for another 24 hours.
Chapter 4
Saturday very early morning
Outlaw Demons Property
Outside of Port Jonesby Washington
Dell was furious. Where the hell had all the bikers gone? And more importantly where was his cargo? He and his hipster chief advisor Sam, had decided on a whim to go check out the talent they had just imported only to find the Outlaw Demon compound empty. He had paid top money for a prime product to resell to a very important client and they were nowhere to be found.The compound was completely abandoned. If those idiot bikers had hijacked his product to sell somewhere else there was going to be hell to pay.
Dell kicked the side of the open, empty steel container in frustration.
“Shit, where do you think everyone is Sam? Did they try to fuck me on the deal or what?” said Dell
Sam lifted his vintage tweed porkpie hat and wiped his pale forehead clear of the light drizzle that was falling while he thought.
“I don’t know mano but since we can’t reach Big Jim or anyone else in the Outlaws, I think we’d better prepare for the worst case,” said Sam.
“Dammit dad’s going to be pissed. I promised him something special in this shipment for his new partner. Do we have any younger ones on deck? We gotta figure out some way of getting our merchandise back.” said Dell
Dell hated his father, but was still loath to disappoint him. The old man was an overbearing, self righteous son-of-a-bitch, but Dell still needed him. Without the protection his dad, the Senator, provided, a man with Dell’s proclivities would be unlikely to stay out of prison for very long.
“I know they were really expecting some younger stuff but there’s a few we have at the warehouse that may work. Or we can always troll Seattle for some fresh meat. But you know how that goes. Those local girls always have a history that the foreign ones don’t and we can’t have this blowing back on us,” replied Sam.
“You don’t think the cops busted them do you?” queried Dell
“Naw, and even if they did there’s no way they have any hard evidence on them and no way they’d turn state's evidence on one another, or us. The bar is a great cutout so we are insulated financially. It’ll just be a pain in the ass for a while.” said Sam.
_________________________________
As they clambered back into the black Range Rover, Sam realized that he was experiencing a feeling somewhat new to him- puzzlement. Very little in his 4,000 year old existence was unpredictable. That people were easily manipulated into horrible evil was a given throughout his history. He also was completely unsurprised by what a great motivator simple greed was. It had been the same in ancient Magadha as it was now. A few baubles, a little gold and these pathetic humans could be goaded into evil at such levels that even he was appalled. He often chuckled to himself when he heard some clueless human say ‘the devil made me do it’. Demons didn’t make people do anything. Most of the time he and his kind didn’t even have to discuss evil deeds. They just had to dangle a little money, sex, or power and wait for humans to do all the dirty work.
No, what was puzzling Sam was how all his carefully laid plans had come undone all at once. His long life had taught him to be an immaculate planner and he had been planning this latest evil for years. It had started out with an unexpected call up from Hell and at first it was a simple quest to create the most evil in the most efficient way possible.
Then Sam had realized that sheer coincidence had dropped an amazing opportunity right into his lap. This was a chance to spread evil on a level that hadn’t been seen since the days of Caligula. But it was all going to go to shit soon unless he got a handle on what had happened at the compound.
Maybe he should call back his HellHounds from their fun tormenting the local Fae? They could sniff around the compound and maybe find a clue that would point out the culprits. He had to do something and it was obvious that Dell, the spoiled idiot man child, was not up to the task
This was, after all, the same moron who had unwittingly called him forth from the underworld.
____________________________________
Two years earlier
Belltown Billiards and Pubbery/ Demon Union Hall
Seattle, Washington
Bakasura was enjoying a leisurely morning torturing money lenders when he got the call. It was mildly annoying as he had just got to the good part where he forced them to crap out the molten gold ingots he had force fed them earlier.
These calls never amounted to much anyway. He’d get a mild tingling sensation between his horns and he’d have to schlep all the way over to the Union Hall to wait at the portal. He’d gotten hundreds of calls over the last centuries but very few of the callers from the Upper World had ever managed all the intricacies that would actually open the interdimensional doorway.
“Hey Fred. what’s up?” Bakasura called out to the chubby, red skinned Union Steward sitting behind the wooden reception desk at the front of the nearly empty hall..
“Hey Baky, your turn in the barrel huh?” Fred replied.
“Yep I switched my on call with Asmodeus. He had some hot little number over in Vice and Recreation he wanted to show a good time,” said Bakasura.
“Well this is probably a non-starter anyhow. Looks like a bunch of drunk college kid wannabees. There’s not even a serious witch between them all. I think the dudes are all just wanting to get drunk and get laid by the Goth chicks and the Goth chicks all just want to be taken seriously.” Fred replied with a chuckle.
Bakasura walked through the swinging double doors into the portal lounge and took a seat overlooking the swirling portal. The six foot wide portal was inset into the ebony floor of the lounge and surrounded by an adamantine rail of deepest black.
As he watched his view into the portal cleared then sharpened in focus revealing what looked like the back party room of a large public house. Now this was a bit unusual. Rarely did they get a clear look into the portal. One of the humans doing the ceremony either had an unusually high predilection for evil acts or someone was just getting lucky with the incantations. Wait there was something else. Bakasura cast his demon sense further into the portal and finally found what was triggering his power sense. Under the floor of the old building lay an elaborate stone and wood altar.
The current building must have been built over the top of it. The place of power felt familiar to Bakasura. Maybe there had been Tamil, or Hindi immigrants to the city that had built and then abandoned this holy place. No matter the religion thought Bakasura, the power of belief itself had at one time permeated this place. This coupled with an unusually high quotient of evil from the primary caller was why he had been called and why the portal was so highly activated. Mystery solved, Bakasure returned his attention to the ritual itself.
It looked like there were about 30 college age kids standing around a pentagram that had been drawn crudely in red chalk on the beer stained wooden floor. Bakasura could tell that nearly all of them were inebriated. Two of them were entwined in a close embrace at the calling focus point on the perimeter of the pentagram. The young red-haired woman had a rather nasty looking black handled athame in one hand and appeared to be arguing with her tall dark partner. As Bakasura looked closer he could feel the evil pouring off the young man in waves. Now this is getting interesting.
As the focus of the portal sharpened yet again Bakasura could even hear their conversation!
“You are fucking insane if you think I’m letting you cut me with that pig sticker!” shouted the young man.
“Oh c’mon Dell, don’t be a whiny little bitch! You knew we were going to need blood to finish the calling! I”ll make it worthwhile, I promise!” she leered as she pushed her considerable assets against him.
“You said it would just be a prick!”
“No, I said you were a prick. But it will really only be a tiny bit of blood. I just have to use the ceremonial blade to get it. A big football player like you isn’t afraid of a little blood, is he? Bawk! Bawk! Bawk!” The woman taunted and then laughed derisively.
“Fuck it. Fine then, just take it easy okay?” he said, holding out his arm over the blood channel drawn on the floor.
“No problem, this won’t hurt me a bit!” she smirked
Grasping the man’s wrist firmly the woman turned his arm over to expose the veins. She then smoothly and deliberately slid the razor sharp edge of the black obsidian bladed dagger an inch along the most prominent vein. Blood flew out of the wound and onto the floor where the blood channel was marked.
“You bitch! The young man yelled as he struggled and tried to pull his arm back.
The red haired wannabe witch was much stronger than she looked though and the blood continued to flow onto the marked place on the old floor. The young man in desperation slammed his fist into the side of her head and she slumped to the floor momentarily stunned. A communal gasp went up from the others as some of the witch's friends ran forward to pick her up from the floor.
“Dell, you are an asshole!” one said, staring at him in disbelief.
Hey, look what she did to me!” Dell shouted back as he attempted to staunch the flow of blood by wrapping the bottom of his tshirt around the wound.
The crowd around the pentagram broke up quickly as her friends escorted the witch out of the back room. The remainder of college kids streamed out onto the streets in raucous knots, looking for the next Saturday night thrill towing a whining Dell with them.
If any of them had stayed behind they might have noticed an unusual phenomenon playing out on the floor where Dell’s blood had been copiously spilled.
Bakasura watched in gleeful anticipation as Dell’s blood, instead of coagulating as you might expect, began to flow unnaturally. The red trickle ever so slowly followed the chalked power lines until blood completely surrounded the pentacle at the center. Bakasura’s demon eyes could see the glow of power as the pentacle activated. He stood from his perch and strode onto the portal. He could feel the tug as he was drawn into the human world for the first time in centuries.
A flash and a moment of dizzying disorientation and he was in!
Bakasura was ecstatic! Now he could really get some dark work done. Shit, wait a minute. Now what? There was no one about to let him out of the pentacle. They had all left without giving him a task he could weasel out of and turn to his advantage. There was no one to manipulate or or deceive into letting him free. He was stuck inside this stupid belief field. He roared in frustration. Of course since he was inside the pentacle it was barely a whiff of air to anyone outside. He should have let Asmodeaus do his own damned pager duty! That barbed dick asshole always lucked out.
Bakasura slumped dejectedly to the floor. Shit. He couldn’t even make it back to Hell on his own power. And to make matters worse his hellphone reception sucked so bad he couldn’t even make a 6969 call for help. Why they ever let AT&T into Hell he could never understand.
He had just about given up hope when the door to the party room cracked open and a stooped gray haired old man backed into the room pulling a mop bucket and a cart of cleaning supplies behind him and muttering profusely.
“Fucking spoiled rich college dickheads. Cain’t even pick up after theyselves . Nooo, Percy has to do it. I should be drinking my beer and sweet talking my woman into given’ it up, but shitfire nope. ‘Percy we need you to come in. Naw Percy you cai n’t do it tomorrow’ boss says,” the old man continued muttering as he swirled the dirty mop back and forth across the floor.
Bakasura stood to his feet watching closely in anticipation as the old man worked closer and closer to the pentagram at the center of the room. As the old man swished the filthy mop over the chalked outline of the outer pentagram Bakasura could feel a tingling begin in his extremities. Just a little bit further!
Finally the old man broke the blood circle of the center pentacle with his mop and Bakasura was free! Free with no demands to fulfill. No whiny humans to demand more money, or more sex, or more of what ever idiotic inconsequential foofaraw they thought they needed a demon to give them.
Bakasura briefly considered going visible so he could eat the old man. He was a bit peckish after all. But it just wasn’t worth it for this bit of gristle. He needed to safely scope out his surroundings before indulging himself. Bakasura had learned a hard lesson about overconfidence at the hands of the hero Bhima many centuries ago and he didn’t need the lesson repeated.
Bakasura slipped easily past the old man and out the door into the main pub area. It looked like things were winding down and the pub was about to close except for a small table of 2 men and a woman arguing vehemently. Bakasura paused nearby, curious as to what could get them all so agitated.
Ah sex! Yep that always seemed to be a trigger for these upright monkees. Hmmm, it seemed that one of these pathetic males was put out that the rather unattractive woman in cat-eyed glasses had decided to go home with the other male. Why didn’t they just all do it together for fuck’s sake? Share and share alike. Win, win and orgasms all around. Bakasura felt he could spend another 4000 years around these pathetic beasts and still not understand them.