Mad Gods - Predatory Ethics: Book I (20 page)

Kosta didn’t even think about stopping. He gunned the
engine and drove her down. The car hit with a bone-crushing force, flinging her
onto the hood and crashing into the windshield, where she clung, her eyes
burning coal red. The bulletproof, unbreakable glass, installed when he first
got the checker cab, paid for itself.

Her face was still that of an elderly matron, but the
eyes and grimacing mouth were vulpine and belonged to a predator. Kosta
switched the gun to his left side, changed hands on the steering wheel and
aimed the gun out of the side window. He leaned forward and pointed the barrel
a foot away from her head. The six shots followed in as many seconds, leaving
the old woman’s face a red pulpy mess.

Kosta weaved the car from left to right before he
slammed on the brakes. She flew violently forward, thrashing in the sunlight,
end over end, to land broken and furious. She sat up and glared at Kosta, who
just drove past and over her. He stopped and backed the car up, until the
driver’s side rear wheel stood on top of the still thrashing and spitting
fiend.

He left the car in park and leaned forward to release
a catch on the seat of the passenger’s side. The cushion lifted up to display a
neat assortment of weapons, ranging from medieval to modern. A mace, a
double-headed axe and a hacker’s sword lay beside a sawed-off pump shotgun, an
AK-47, a colt 45 automatic, a Schofield revolver and their respective
ammunition. He chose the double-headed axe, and from the glove compartment, he
removed two vials of holy water.

Armed in each hand he glanced behind to see if Nino
was all right. He was asleep on the floor. A smile creased his face and he
eased out of the car. Taking two steps, he stopped and looked down at what
remained of the old woman.

He unstopped one of the vials and poured the contents
on one of the edges of the axe. He emptied the other vial onto the crushed
abomination, producing screams that could not be heard on this earth, but woke
Nino, whose head darted up, ears covered, eyes squinted shut, as he vainly
tried to block out the noise. Mercifully, it was cut short with a metallic
thud, the axe severing the neck, striking sparks on the asphalt.

Kosta kicked the head away from the body, until it
was just behind the trunk of the car. He popped open the trunk, removed a cloth
sack and bagged the head. He tossed the axe into the car, along with the sack,
and continued forward, down the long highway, leaving the rest of the
smoldering body behind. By nightfall, it would be dust.

A few miles later, he grabbed the sacked head and
tossed it out of the window. It flew in a straight line to roll across the
asphalt, landing in the ditch. He closed the seat cushion and craned his neck
to glance behind him.

“You can come out now.” Kosta tried to sound
reassuring and a brown head slowly rose from behind the upright seat. Brown
eyes looked from side to side, and finally, Nino’s entire face was looking over
the seat, out onto the ever-continuing road. “Do you want to come here, in
front?”

“No.”

“Fair enough.” He wondered what his reaction would be
to the connection he felt to the Darkness that was a part of him. Long ago,
Kosta had read about the Darkness, which came as the three wise men had come at
Christmas. In Nino’s case it was a vital organ that pumped his essence and
defined him.

“What was that?”

“That was a seeker. They look for people.” Kosta
wanted to give the complete definition of these hounds of hell, but thought
that a six-month-old could not tolerate such a lengthy explanation, no matter
how brilliant he might be. Instead, he leaned forward and flicked on the radio.
A few seconds passed to the final strains of
Monster Mash
. It had debuted less than a month earlier, and Kosta
couldn’t get away from it. Even here in the southern hemisphere, they played
that little graveyard smash.

“Are all old women seekers?” Nino seemed to brighten
when he heard the tune, so Kosta kept it on, despite the fact that he found it
highly irritating.

“No, the most common thing about seekers is that they
are very common. They’ll usually appear as the most unremarkable person
imaginable. They could be an old lady, an old man, a child, an unhealthy man or
woman, either slight or overweight — they are usually someone most would
overlook.”
Waooo, wa wa waooo
bore
its way into his head. The only thing that he knew was right in the world was
that when Bobby Picket started growling like a wolf, the insipid little ditty
would soon be over.

“Oh. Always?”

“No, not always. Some unremarkable people are just
people, not seekers.” The song ended and Kosta breathed a sigh of relief, but
held his breath through the commercials that went by so fast he couldn’t tell
what they were pandering.

“What are they looking for?”

“They’re looking for me because they don’t like me.
That’s okay though, because I don’t like them either.” Kosta knew that this was
a total lie. They were actually after little Nino. He knew they would be drawn
to him, like moths to a flame. He was actually surprised that it had taken this
long to find him.

“Why was she screaming like that?”

“She didn’t like what I did. She was very mad.” Kosta
hadn’t anticipated how disarrayed the Luciferians would be after he usurped the
fate for which they longed. There were many they could send after them,
answered to masters that did not like the light.

“Did you hear her screaming? You acted like you
couldn’t hear her. She was very loud.”

“No, I couldn’t hear her. Most people can’t hear the
voice of a seeker.” Their masters were not limited to the Luciferians; Kosta
had to be careful with any law enforcement or mid to higher level government
officials. For centuries, they peppered these stations with some of their own.

“Why?”

“Because, they have a voice that can’t be heard by
normal people.” The news ended, and out of the speaker came the voice of an
angel. Kosta sighed as Elvis said he got the letter back, marked return to
sender, postage unknown, no such number, no such home.

“I heard it.”

“Yes, you did, but that’s because you’re special.”
Kosta did not mind answering the constant questions.

“Is it because I’m cursed?”

“No, it’s because you have powers that others don’t.
That’s not a curse, it’s a gift.” He had to make sure Nino did not believe what
his parents thought, even if it was true.

“Papa and Rosanna thought I was cursed. Even the rest
of Sao Paolo thought I was cursed.”

“Well, you’re not. They were wrong.” The key was to
convince him he was as normal as anybody else — to create for him, a life
without incident.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” It was critical that he did not
amplify what Nino would surely face in his life. Kosta had to show him he was,
indeed, a normal mortal. Everyone else made him what he was reputed to be.
Until the Darkness came, he was no different than anyone else. His destiny
began with the melding of that fiend.

“Positive?”

“Yes, I’m positive.” Nino was born with all usual
promise and potential of humanity. Kosta simply had to make him see it, no
matter what anybody else thought or said.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Kosta. Is Nino the only name you know?” He
wanted him to be his own person, free from unwanted, outside influence.

“My papa called me Nino.”

“So, nobody ever gave you a name?” This was the point
Kosta wanted to imprint he individuality Nino must adopt, to face a world full
of doubters and faithful.

“Just Nino. That’s what they called me.”

“Can I try a name and see if you like it?” The name
Kosta had in mind had more than just superficial significance. If the boy liked
the name it would continue the change of reality Kosta began with his robbery
of the boy’s fate.

Nino looked at him with an open expression,
considering his offer. “Okay,” he said. He said it casually, as if he was
agreeing to a glass of water.

“You don’t have to use it if you don’t want. We can
choose another one. There’s a whole lot of names from which we can chose, and
we don’t have to find one right away. We can go on until we find one you like.”
He paused a second and then added, “How does Adam sound? It’s a very special
name. It was the name of the first man — the one who came before
everybody else.” On the radio, Elvis had been replaced by the Tokens, who
started with,
Oooo, oooweeoo, oooweeoo,
badiyah-mambabaway, awimbaway, awimbaway, awimbaway. In the jungle, the mighty
jungle, the lion sleeps tonight.
Kosta was grateful that it finally
exorcised the earlier Monster Mash, previously residing in his cranium. Nino
was also starting to warm to the song; he would later say that it was catchy
and had a good beat.

“That was the first name? Adam?”

“Yes, it was the first name. What do you think?”
Near the village, the peaceful village, the
lion sleeps tonight. Hush my darling, don’t fear my darling, the lion sleeps
tonight. Awimbaway, awimbaway, awimbaway.

“It sounds real old. I like it.” Adam started bopping
his head to the song and smiling.

“Well, like I said, you don’t have to keep it. We can
find others.” Kosta was surprised to see the smile and wondered if it was his
first.

“We can stay with Adam. Hey, what is this we’re
listening to?” he asked. He had heard sound coming from a radio before, but
never heard music. Jose and Rosanna always listened to the news and were very
dedicated to being informed about world affairs.

“If you like another name, we can change it. Okay?
This is a song by a group… I don’t know their name… but it’s called the
Lion Sleeps Tonight.
”

“Oh, okay.” He still tilted his head left and then
right, keeping time with the music.

“Do you have any ideas for names?” He watched as the
newly-named Adam continued to enjoy the music and smile.

“No, I thought Nino was my name. What’s wrong with
Nino?” He stopped bopping when the song stopped and an announcer named the
following tune —
Up on the Roof
,
by the Drifters. His head began to sway to the slow melody and easy voice of
Ruby Lewis.

“Well, Nino means boy. You won’t always be a boy.”
Kosta looked down and had to remind himself that this was still an infant. He
was speaking to someone who should barely be able to verbalize at all, yet he
was carrying on a conversation about his life. To say that he was advanced was
to call the ocean damp.

“Adam, do you understand why your father and mother
were scared of you?”

“She wasn’t my mother. My mother died when I was
born. I never knew her. Rosanna is not my mother.”

“Alright, then do you understand why they were all
scared of you?” In the long run, he didn’t think it meant anything, but he
would have to wait and see.

“They thought I was bad.”

“Yes, but do you know why? Didn’t they ever say why
they were scared?” What did he know of his nature? Did the Darkness give him
instinctive insight?

“They were scared because I knew things.”

“You mean that you knew them without anybody showing
you?” Kosta shifted his attention, from the long unbending road ahead, to Adam.

“Yeah.”

“Is that the reason?” Kosta still glanced at the
road, watchful for any of his charge’s followers or subjects. They could pop
out of nowhere.

“I don’t know. I guess so.” A short silence followed,
and then almost beneath his breath, Adam asked, “Why aren’t you scared?”

“I am scared, Adam, but I want to help. I know you
don’t want people to be scared of you. Do you?” He answered as honestly as he
could, to show everything he faced.

“No.”

“Don’t you want people to like you?” He had to show
Adam that people would fear him, if only out of prejudice.

“Yes, but nobody does. You’re scared too.”

“I can both like you and be scared of you.” Kosta
continued, saying he was getting over his fear because Adam was a good boy, but
not everyone would be so easily swayed. “It would be better if you never told
them who you are, unless they find out on their own. Look, it’s a little too
early for you to understand that I can be both scared of you and like you, but
in time, you will understand. Until then, we’ll just be friends and stay
together, okay?”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“If you’re ever scared, confused and have any
questions, I want you to know that you can always come to me.” Adam looked up
at him in confusion.

“Who am I, that so many are scared of me?”

Kosta thought for a moment and answered, “I can’t
tell you that yet. You’re too little to understand. When you’re older, I’ll
explain and you’ll know why you’re special.”

Adam looked forward, then out of the side window. He
had forgotten the question, and only half listened to the answer, as he tried
to watch the scenery go by, but couldn’t. Instead, he watched the sky fly past
the window. Clouds followed each other and he did not speak to the man beside
him. His eyes fluttered closed.