Crime Rave (27 page)

5:25 PM Spruce-Musa Hospital

W
hile the Countess waits for her machinations to fulfill her newest twisted desire, Red Feather and Günn walk into their penultimate interview. Red Feather doesn’t recall such an exhausting day since Günn and he were tagged for the serial killer who was dismembering children and scattering parts all around the city in public places. It was one of few times he’d seen his partner as rattled as she is now.

Red Feather and Günn walk into the room of Lola Calavera, IDed by Karma Devi, Kevin Danville’s suspected castrator. The room’s empty as a church on Thursday.

“The hell?” Red Feather says and looks in the bathroom. Günn rushes to the nurse’s station.

“One of the witnesses is missing!” The panic bubbling under Günn’s surface rises to the top, threatening to spill over.

“That’s impossible.” Nurse Pratchett makes trails to Lola’s room, where they find Red Feather chatting with her.

“She can disappear!” Red Feather is a six-year-old boy. “Do you mind showing them?”

“Fine by me,” the curly haired Latina woman says in a thick Mexican accent, and vanishes. Nurse Pratchett and Detective Günn gasp in tandem. They gasp again when Lola reappears. “And watch this.” Lola’s nails begin to grow until they’re claws, a good six inches from the tip of her finger. “These nails could cut someone. And good.” She retracts them with a wince. “And that completes our show for today.” She does a half bow in bed.

Günn’s head throbs, making her heart pound harder.
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.
There’s no such thing as werewolves and vampires and invisible girls and vaginas dentate. There’s no such thing as ghosts. There’s no such thing. No such thing.

Red Feather claps. He’s getting used to this new world, and loving it. “Incredible!” He looks over at Günn, who has that blank look in her eyes again. The niggling worry still has a base camp in his belly. Günn sets up the camera, vacant, going through the motions.

“Can we ask you some questions about what you remember from the rave last night?”

“Course. But I remember basically
nada
. Last thing I remember is getting my nails done for my costume. Catwoman.
Mira
, tiger stripes! So cool, right?”

“Very. Who did you go to the party with?”

“My friend Karma. She was Poison Ivy. We looked awesome.” Lola pauses. “I’m afraid to ask, but is she okay? I saw on TV that we survived an explosion. I mean, wow.” Lola crosses herself.

Red Feather hands Lola the stack of Polaroids and she holds up Karma’s photo.

“You’re both very lucky to be here.” Red Feather says. Lola squeals with happiness and briefly goes invisible, “
Díos se bendiga
.” Lola crosses herself again, this time kissing her fingers when done, badly wanting to go to church and give confession.

You’re not really here,
Günn says to herself.
You’re dreaming. This is a dream. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.

“So what
mierda
happened last night?” Lola tucks her legs under into a sitting pose and puts her elbows on her knees, hands under her chin.

“We’re still putting together all the pieces, but as you said, there was an explosion. You don’t remember anything about last night at all?”

Lola shakes her head. “
Lo siento.” I’m sorry.

Red Feather thinks of Tashi Lhamo and her date rape confession. “Do you maybe have anything else you might want to tell us?”

“Um, I don’t think so,” Lola pauses, goes invisible and then reappears again, like she thinks better when nobody is looking. “You know what, since you ask. There’re these guys on campus, I’m pretty sure they’ve been roofieing and raping girls. I stopped three of them, but I got the feeling it wasn’t their first time and that they weren’t the only ones.”

“What school do you go to? Can you give me their names?”

“Western College, in Eagle Rock. You know, near Pasadena? I don’t know those guys’ names, just their frat. ATD. Alpha Tau Delta. I can find out more and call you?”

“Leave this to us. If nothing else, I’ll discuss with your campus security and have them keep an eye out on our behalf.”

“
Gracias
. It’s a really small school, so nobody reports rapes, like ever. I was lucky to be there to help that one
chica
out, but I’m not Supergirl, you know?”

“No, more like the Invisible Girl,” Red Feather cracks a smile and Lola responds in kind, fading in and out as she does.

Günn examines her nails.
Damn, need another manicure already.

“It’s a pretty cool power, isn’t it?” Lola straightens her legs out and leans back in bed.

“It sure is.” Red Feather wonders who’s gonna write this book.
Lab tech Stacey Chang called dibs hours ago.

“Though, I’m not exactly invisible, I just make myself look like whatever’s around me. To the naked eye it’s all the same, no?”

Red Feather nods. “Thanks again for the tip about your school and you call me if anything comes back about the rave last night. Okay?”

Lola’s turn to nod. “You got it,
Detectivo
. Sorry I wasn’t more help about the party. I hope you catch those
pendejo
rapists. You let me know if I can help you guys with that. Nothing more I hate than fucking rapists.”

Red Feather hands Lola Calavera his business card. Günn packs up the video camera and they head out for their final interview with the Motel Crane Massacre survivors.

Lola shifts back into invisible mode and memorizes the detective’s number, just in case.

Lola Calavera, aka Glamour

T
hey told you to stay put, but you’ve never been one for following rules. You shimmer into the background and peek out the door. How far could you get before they’d even notice you’re gone? Probably all the way to
abuela
’s place in Aguascalientes! You giggle and it unsettles the nurse walking by who can’t see you.

You rematerialize when Nurse Jonelle turns away. “Hey, is there a taco truck nearby?”

You’ve given her a start, but she smiles anyway and says she’s been taking outside food orders all day. “Now skedaddle back to your room! And stay there.” She grins and sends a bored policeman to get you a breakfast burrito con chorizo with extra hot sauce and as many carnitas tacos al pastor he can carry.

Your mouth waters at the thought of the oily, spicy goodness in your belly, your first real meal since the resurrection.

In spite of being raised Catholic, strict at that, you always had your doubts about Jesús actually rising from the dead. The detective said you were nothing but a hand when they found you. What will this do to the church? You’re no
profeta
. You can be a protector of women, as you were before. But this
milagro
is going to be a problem for everyone, you can feel it.

There will be people who will want to kill you to see if you’ll rise again.

And you wish this all hadn’t been so
pinche público
. What will Mamá say? How will she reconcile the faith that runs every aspect of her life to you born again? Or will she consider it ultimate proof in
Padre Diós
?

Your musing is interrupted by the rich smell of chorizo and pork in a corn tortilla. The hot sauce is spicy enough to burn a hole in the bag. Unlike usual, you eat slowly, eyes closed, savoring each delicious bite.

Questions of faith can wait. Right now, the body craves the divine sustenance only a taco truck can provide.

6:00 PM The Roswell Institute

A
s the sun sets miles above, the extraction team of hybrids and humans waits in a holding dock for their ride to Beverly Hills. Colonel Ransom heads back to his control room. From there he’ll oversee the operation: Institute policy deigns that higher ranks refrain from combat, much as he’d love to see it again. Thankfully this cock-up hasn’t caught the eyes of The Institute Founders. At least not yet.
Here’s hoping we’ll keep it that way.
In spite of their name, which reminds Ripper Ransom of wig-wearing old dudes signing the Declaration of Independence, The Founders are nobody to trifle with. In fact, they’re the only things that put the fear into Ripper Ransom and make him wish for his mommy.

Ransom shakes thoughts of Institute Founders from his head and instead plans to light a fire under the asses of the engineers and contractors developing The Institute’s tunnel system under Los Angeles. It’s taking them too fucking long. Wouldn’t have even had to send the team out in the craft if that shit was done already. Incompetents. Surrounded by incompetents.

Back in Ransom’s lair the video feeds from the extraction team splash across the dozen screens.
So far so good.

The phone rings, busting up Ripper Ransom’s reverie. Purple light flashing.
Oh fuckstick. Spoke too soon. It’s them.
Dread fills every cell in Ripper Ransom’s body. These are the only times this ever happens. He takes a deep breath and pushes the button, muting the extraction team screens.

“Things are not going very well, we hear, Ripper.” The voice is made of glass and cruelty. The Founders can get away with calling Colonel Ransom his nickname to his face without getting a bullet as thanks.

“All under control now, Sirs.” Cold and sudden sweat drips from under Ransom’s arms, trickling down his sides and into his trousers.

“You know that’s not good enough,” the voice tuts, a banal sound made horrifying by the entities bearing it.

Ransom winces, the emanations worse than nails on a chalkboard. He pulls it together. “Sirs, those escapees will get a punishment they’ll never forget once they’re back. I can promise you that.”

“And what about you?” The threat is implicit.

Ransom’s fillings rattle, his mouth fills with blood. “Sir?”

“You let them escape. What should your punishment be?” The voice takes on an edge that causes Ransom’s nose to bleed.

“No matter,” the voice continues. “We’ll talk again. Soon.” The connection breaks. The purple light flashes off.

Colonel Ransom leans back and holds a towel to his now-gushing nose. Today might, in fact, be a good day to die. Again.

6:15 PM Spruce-Musa Hospital

“Y
ou will release her to me this instant!” The Countess Barona screams in Nurse Jonelle’s face, waving the court order around in her hand.

“What the fuck is this?” Günn shoves the video camera into Red Feather’s hands and storms over to the nurse’s station. “What in the hell is going on here?”

Barona turns, a vile expression on her pinched face. “Don’t you dare swear at me, Detective. I’ll have you court martialled!”

“Good luck with that, lady, seeing as I’m not a member of the United States military. I repeat, what the FUCK is going on here?” All the frustration building up in Günn breaks through the surface. Not to mention, she smells the rotting meat of some major lies.

Barona blusters, “I have a court order issued by Judge Aldridge that remands my grand-niece into my custody! You’ll hand her over this instant!”

“Give me that.” Günn snatches the paper from Barona, who is so startled she stumbles. Her eyes form slits anew.

Günn reads it and her heart sinks.
Motherfucker. Handing over a child to this woman. Of all people.

Barona watches Günn’s face fall and smiles.
Every drink of pain tastes just as sweet.

“Any time you’re ready, Detectives.” Barona smirks as Günn hands the court order to Red Feather who reads it, his face expressionless.
Ain’t no way I’m gonna give that bitch the satisfaction of a response.

“Please wait here,” Red Feather says, handing the court order back to the police officer. “We’ll be right out with your niece.” He starts walking toward Lily the cyclops’s room. Günn catches up with him and grabs his arm.

“You can’t possibly even consider giving Lily to that old bag!”

“Günn,” he studies her face, “are you okay? Seriously. You can tell me.”

“I’m fine.” His gaze makes her uncomfortable. “I just fucking hate that bitch. And something stinks to high heaven about this whole thing. I mean how can she just—”

Red Feather puts up his hand, “You and me both. I’m sure the kid will hate her, too. But we’ve no choice right now.”

Günn deflates. “God. Dammit!
You
fucking do it. If I get near that woman right now I swear to Christ I’m gonna knock her out on her Prada-wearing ass. Wait for you in front of the last survivor’s room.” There are too many emotions coursing through Günn to understand. She fights the urge to spit on the Countess as she passes. Barona’s pale face breaks into a wide smile, her capped teeth glowing under the harsh hospital fluorescents. Red Feather emerges, the gargantuan fifteen-year-old one-eyed Lily in tow, looking confused at this newest strange turn of events.

“Lily, this is your great-aunt, the Countess Barona. She’ll be your guardian from now on.”

“But I don’t understand. Why now? Why didn’t you ever take me from that horrible orphanage?” Lily’s one eye blinks back tears.

“Well dear, I only just found out about you. Otherwise, of course I would have,” Barona simpers, her voice as if talking to a toddler.

“But—” Lily senses something is off. None of this makes any sense. The Countess interrupts her.

“Come, dear, we have plenty of time to catch up. What say we get out of here and go shopping? I’m sure you’d love to get out of that dreadful hospital gown.”

Lily shrugs, looking at Detective Red Feather with her one sad eye. He smiles an apology. She nods.

“Pleasure seeing you again, Detective. Though one I hope to not experience again any time soon.” Barona sniffs.

“Likewise, I’m sure,” Red Feather says, discreetly handing Lily his card again just in case she left the old one in her hospital room. The Countess is halfway to the elevator.

“Come on, then, Lily.”

Lily turns to the detective. “Thanks for everything.”

“You call me. Any time. Got it?” Red Feather feels a powerlessness reserved for dreams about his dead father.

“Got it,” Lily promises and hugs Red Feather. He watches the elevator close on Barona’s gleeful face and Lily’s heartbreaking farewell wave.

The Countess Barona wasted no time in making arrangements for her newest theater of cruelty. She phoned her usual contact who, in turn, initiated a chain of phone calls, each adding a new actor into play. Barona’s domestic staff is busy setting up her basement into a makeshift film set. Bit players are lining up at the servant’s entrance, six-foot three-inches and taller as requested, waiting for their close ups.

Lily has never been in a limousine before, and though her terrible feeling about the woman who calls herself countess persists, she marvels at the plush interior.

Not for long.

Just moments after getting seated the Countess begins to explain the rules and expectations of being a part of her illustrious foster family. Lily’s eye widens. She tries to open the door to jump out, preferring death by oncoming traffic rather than going down this madwoman’s road. The doors are well locked. Lily trapped. A familiar feeling.

“You can make this easy on yourself or you can make me angry,” the Countess says, snarling. “If you choose the latter, you can’t imagine how much worse I will make this for you. I know we’ve only just met, but you had better trust me on this.” Barona bares her teeth and laughs. “Or go ahead. I dare you. Make me angry. More fun for me.”

Lily’s insides turn to mush. “Why are you doing this to me?” Tears stream down her face.

The Countess wipes the tears away and grabs Lily’s chin, forcing her forward in her seat. “Because, my little freak,
I can
.” The Countess flings Lily’s face away and smiles. Lily curls her huge frame into the corner, wondering what she’d done in previous lives to merit such consistent bad luck.