Acoustic Shadows. Patrick Kendrick

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СКАЧАТЬ it back down, it struck with a wet, meaty sound, and stopped hard against the man’s neck bones. Blood spurted and sprayed Emilio and Julio. Emilio tugged at the blade and dislodged it from the man’s cervical spine. The man began to convulse and fell forward. Before he hit the ground, Emilio swung the blade again, catching it in the wound from the first swing. This time, it went clean through. The man’s head came off, hitting the ground with a thud.

      Julio stood transfixed, his mouth wide, lips quivering. He could see the man’s face and watched his mouth open and close, like a fish gasping on a hot, dry deck. He turned and retched into the grass, his legs shaking under him like saplings caught in a hurricane.

      Emilio pulled another man from the van. The man sobbed and made promises and excuses, but it was as if Emilio could no longer hear him. He pushed him to the ground near the body of the first man, then turned to Julio.

      ‘It’s your turn, Julio. You must help kill our enemies.’

      Julio shook his head. ‘No, Papa, I cannot do this.’

      Emilio reached over and slapped him. The blow hit him in the ear and made it ring so loud he could barely hear what else his father was saying. But he heard enough. ‘If you don’t do this,’ Don Emilio declared, ‘one of these men will shoot you. Do you understand?’

      Julio nodded, tears streaming from his eyes. How had this happened? One moment, he was happy and sated, full of wine and women. Now, his father was threatening him and he was being forced to murder a man he did not know, and in this most brutal way.

      ‘Stop crying,’ said Emilio. ‘You won’t be able to see what you’re doing.’ He placed the sticky handle of the machete into Julio’s hand.

      Julio looked at the blade, shining black in the moonlit night. Before he had gone downstairs for dinner, he had made love with the red-haired whore and, as they lay there in post-coital bliss, he had noticed his phallus, still shining from their sex. This is what he thought of as he looked at the blood-slicked blade: a wet, throbbing phallus. In one afternoon, his father had introduced him to the utmost pleasure in life, and now mixed that gift with the most horrible deed any human could perform. This incongruent mix would haunt him for the rest of his life – he knew that, even then – but was powerless to stop it. Thirty years later – and four failed marriages due to domestic assault – proved there are forbidden elements of mankind that should never be revealed to a young, impressionable mind.

      Julio held the blade out as he’d seen his father do, his hand shaking so much he thought he’d drop it. But, he didn’t. He swung it down and struck the second man, hitting him in the shoulder, down to the bone. The scream covered Julio’s arms in goose bumps.

      ‘Again!’ said Emilio. ‘Quickly.’

      Julio did as he was ordered. The blade flashed again, this time finding the man’s neck, but hardly going through. The man tried to stand and run, but one of Emilio’s men stuck out his leg and tripped him. As the man rolled on the ground, the bandana covering his eyes came off, and he looked up at Julio, his eyes pleading, blood streaming from his neck.

      Emilio came over and squatted next to the man. He pointed at the man’s throat with his index finger. ‘Right across here, Julio,’ he said, as if teaching his son how to cut firewood. Julio brought the blade down again. And again. It took several chops through bone and sinew to completely sever the man’s head.

      Julio turned, fell to his knees, and vomited. When he was able to stand up, one of the men assisted him and handed him a bottle of tequila. Julio took it and rinsed his mouth, then took another swallow that burned all the way down and filled his head with fire.

      They had pulled the last man out of the van and placed him on his knees in the condemned man’s position. He sobbed quietly.

      Emilio looked at Julio and said, ‘Again.’

      Julio teetered over; sure he could neither raise the blade again, nor swing it hard enough to do what had to be done. But, the look on his father’s face, the sneer, the disgust of having such a weak offspring, was so apparent, he did not have to hear the words. He found an anger inside himself, let it rise to a boil, and placed himself behind the man. This time, he raised the blade above his own head with both hands and, when he came back down, arcing it to the side, he put his weight into the swing. The blade was getting dull now and once again, it did not go all the way through. But, as the man fell to his side, Julio dislodged the blade, and without being coaxed this time, he swung it down again and again, until the man’s head rolled off.

      Emilio nodded to the other men and, without words, they took chainsaws from the van and cranked them up.

      Julio wondered why they had not used the chainsaws in the first place then realized it was probably because his father wanted him to ‘work’ through his emergence as a killer. Now, he felt the transformation within himself and knew at that very moment he would never be the same. But, he would also never be like his father.

      One of his father’s men – a man whom Julio had heard being referred to as El Monstruo, The Monster – dismembered the bodies with the chainsaw and placed them in black plastic bags. He was a frightening presence, as wide as he was tall. His eyes were as black and lifeless as a shark’s, set into acne-scarred skin. His other facial features were blunted and slightly out of place, as if the sculptor who moulded him left him in the kiln too long. His mouth hung open as if his nose did not take in air. As toad-like as he looked, his hands moved quickly with saw and blade; an efficient and experienced butcher. Once in bags, the parts were then placed into wooden shipping containers that, Julio later learned, to his horror, were shipped back to the dead men’s families.

      Emilio put his arm around his son’s shoulders, grinning as if his son had just scored the final goal at the World Cup, and said, ‘Okay. Now, you are a man. Let’s get cleaned up. Those lusty whores in the house want more of you, I’m sure.’ He beamed proudly as he said this, but Julio did not. Sex was absolutely the last thing on his mind at that moment.

       EIGHT

      It was Sara Logan on the phone. ‘Good morning,’ she purred.

      Despite everything, his heart crept into his throat. ‘Are you here?’ he croaked. ‘I mean, at the hotel?’

      ‘No,’ she answered. ‘Still at the Gaylord Palms. We Feds like to stay at Marriotts. I keep the reward points and use them when I go on vacation.’

      ‘Since when do you take vacations?’

      ‘You’re always on vacation when you love your job.’

      ‘I wouldn’t know.’ Thiery rubbed his head, aching from lack of sleep.

      ‘You should come up. I’m sure it’s a wee bit nicer than your dive.’

      Thiery ignored the invite. ‘I don’t know. This place is pretty sweet, if you don’t mind cockroaches.’

      ‘Eeeeyew,’ said Logan. ‘I’ve got a suite with a balcony overlooking a lake and a huge, very comfortable bed. I’m afraid I’ll get lost in it all by myself.’

      Thiery shook his head. The girl didn’t give up. ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine.’ Changing the subject, he asked, ‘Anything new on your end?’

      ‘With СКАЧАТЬ