“Eliza,” I said.
“She and my father came to visit. Eliza killed my mother as my father watched, then she grabbed me.” Azile flipped her hair over to show two long-healed, puckered wounds on her neck. “She had just sunk her teeth into me when something in my father, some vestige of humanity showed itself and he begged her not to kill me…that I was even named after her. She backhanded my father so hard that he slid across the floor of the kitchen.”
***
“What is your name, child?” Eliza said as she stroked the young girl’s hair.
“Azile,” the girl said holding her chin high. Her mother was dead—a small pool of blood by her neck. Her father (in biological terms only) was groaning, his back up against the far wall in the kitchen.
“Azile! How rich!” Eliza said delightfully. “Perhaps I should let you live, if for no other reason than to see what happens.
Azile did not understand the monster’s words. She could see beyond the veneer of the beautiful woman to the cruelty and horror that lay beneath. The twisted, gnarled thing shrank away from that gaze.
“Well if you are not to die, then it shall be your father,” Eliza said as she strode over to Azile’s father. She looked back, waiting for some sort of response. Azile stood defiantly, the only person she cared for in life already dead; her father meant nothing to her. She watched as Eliza ripped the man’s throat open. His gurgled cries for help went unheeded.
“I believe we shall meet again,” Eliza said as she patted the girl’s head and left.
***
“I saw her for what she was and she let me live because of it…because of the horror of it,” Azile said as she covered her face.
“I’m sorry for everything you’ve gone through.” I hopped down off the truck.
“But?” she asked looking up at me.
“You tell me.”
“Group hug,” John said, climbing down off the trailer.
I acquiesced, because if I didn’t, he would have gone on about it for hours.
“After Eliza killed my mother, I vowed revenge. I knew she was something out of a faerie tale, so that’s what I decided I must become to defeat her.”
“A unicorn?” John asked, looking on her head for the horn.
We both stopped to look at him.
“A witch,” she stated. “I studied the Wiccan ways of white light.”
“So you’re more like Glinda the Good Witch?” John asked.
“Glinda wasn’t so good,” I said off-handedly. “I’m just saying, she was happy when Dorothy killed the other witch. She basically told Dorothy to take property that wasn’t hers and then sent her off on a mission to kill another witch that she was enemies with. If she was such a good witch why didn’t she do it herself?”
John and Azile were not giving me flattering looks.
“That’s merely my take,” I said, trying my best to extradite myself from my comment.
“Since my mother’s murder,” Azile continued, “my life has been devoted to stopping Eliza.”
I nodded in agreement. “What happened?”
“How did I become locked in that truck you mean?”
“That’s as good a thing to explain as any.”
“I’ve been searching for Eliza for thirteen years now. Always practicing my art, always getting stronger when that ultimate day would come and I could exact my revenge.”
I looked at her questioningly.
“Yeah, it didn’t work out quite as well as I’d hoped. I got my CDL a couple of years ago because it would give me a chance to drive around the country. I could sense her presence, almost like a whiff of ghost perfume in a haunted house. The stink of her was all over that truck stop.”
“So you had joined up in the hopes of getting a glimpse?” I asked.
“Oh, it was more than hoping for a glimpse. I had a sacrificial knife, supposedly belonged to an Ute Shaman. She came to see how Kong—what kind of fucking name is that?” she asked as an aside, “was doing. She had a small circle of drivers around her, and I circled around so I was coming up behind her. I had that blade out and was going to drive it between her shoulder blades.”
“I don’t think that would have worked.”
“Maybe, maybe not, but it would have made me feel better.”
“I’m with you on that. I think your knife is back there,” I said, pointing to the back of the truck.
“Are you sure?” she said, her eyes getting big.
“Beside the stones—which we’ll get to—there was something wrapped up in leather roughly the size of a butcher knife.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” she asked hotly.
“Umm, let me think…ultimate weapon of destruction, or a small item wrapped in dirty leather. Wow, how could I have been so stupid?”
Azile was already running into the back of the truck. “That’s it!” she yelled excitedly. She unwrapped it quickly and held it up. I wouldn’t have been overly surprised if bolts of lightning rained down from the heavens. I even took a quick glance skyward to see if there were any threatening clouds.
“So how’d you go from would be assassin to captive?”
“Bitch knew I was there all along. Apparently we share a connection because of the bite.”
John pulled out a medium-sized, folded up piece of tin foil and feverishly began to fashion it into a hat.
“What is he doing?” she asked me when John tried to put it on her head.
“Save us all, you’ll understand once it’s on.”
“I really don’t want to belong to the lithium league,” she said as she fended John off.
“Try it for a second.”
She allowed John to place the hat on her head. Instantly, her expression changed from disbelief to bewilderment to relief. She quickly removed it, then placed it back on. “How?”
“No clue. John could probably tell you.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Beats me, saw it on a television show once when I was a kid.”
“I guess I should have figured as much,” I said aloud.
“For some reason, she didn’t kill me. She took the stones out of my trailer and had Kong put them in Horatio’s truck, then Kong made Horatio handcuff me to his bedrail.”
I was staring at her.
“No, no, he was actually fairly decent as far as murdering thugs go. Never once tried to have his way with me, apparently even scum have certain platitudes they won’t stoop below. But who knows, some of them were getting a little antsy. I’m sure if given the chance a few of them would have. Luckily I’d only been there a couple of days before you came along.”
“I haven’t figured all this shit out…not by a long shot. But there’s something more going on here. There was a half dozen different ways we could have left this morning and why I felt so compelled to check out that truck stop I’m still not sure. Then Horatio needing to take a piss just then. I find his truck and you. People win the lottery with smaller odds.”
“You should play the lottery,” John said. “If your luck is that good, you’re bound to win something.”
“Well let’s hold on to that and hope it extends to finding your wife.”
“Azile is married to a woman? How very progressive,” John said.
“Your wife, John.”
“Oh, well then let’s get going,” he said. “Where is she again?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Eliza and Tomas
Eliza and Tomas walked among the gravestones of the long interred residents of the Rue Morgue, as calm in their surroundings as new parents would be in their infant’s bedroom. Eliza strode with a purpose, Tomas kept up if only to try and keep her from her own insanity.