The Two Devils (24 page)

"What's that?"

"It's Latin. Means, the thing speaks for itself. Give it to the waiter at the seafood place across the street. They'll give you a nice crab supper,” the judge explained. “You like crab?"

"Okay.” I looked at the note. It made no sense to me. “So, we're through?"

"We're through."

I headed across the street. They did, indeed, give me a very nice meal upon seeing the note from Judge Hastings. After eating my fill on crab and buttered sourdough, I headed for home. It occurred to me that I had risked my life with the Gray Army, some guy with an owl head, and a very hostile monster from Mars, all for the compensation of a crab dinner. I certainly work cheap.

After checking on Paul, I retired early for the evening. I think I was asleep before my head landed on the pillow.

There is something really unnerving about waking up with the Angel of Death standing over you. I waited for my heartbeat to resume a more normal rhythm. “Uh ... Hi, Death."

He wandered over to the window. “Hello, Miles.” He held a brandy bottle in his hand. “The lady who runs this place, she keeps a bottle underneath her bed. Did you know that?"

"No, I did not."

"They make brandy right here in California. I guess that's why there's so much of it around here. Lots more Bourbon in the south.” Death shrugged. “When in Rome.” He sat himself in my chair. “Monsters from Mars. Who'd have thought."

I sat myself up in the bed. “Death, I've been wondering something. I never see you around at times when people die? Like all those soldiers? How come?"

"You don't want to know,” Death answered. “So, you ran into Nick on your way home?"

"Yes."

"I'll bet he's delighted to have Ah Puch gone,” Death said.

"He didn't really say."

"Miles, God wanted me to come and explain something to you. I'm not good with explaining stuff. I just tell people they're dead, and it's time to get a move on it. Heck, I scare the poop out of everyone I meet. But, since we're so well acquainted, He figured I should be the one. It's usually some nice angel like Buffy."

I would've preferred Buffy, but saw no advantage in stating that. “Explain what?” I asked.

"Well, you've probably already figured out that—a long time ago anyway—there were a few other deities around. There's been a few different claims on the underworld for some reason I'll never figure. I can't see why anyone would want the place.” He drank another generous portion of brandy. “Well, you knew about Nick having some stuff from Hades. Well, that Ah Puch, well, he's been kind of wandering about. His civilization fell by the wayside long ago. Well, then he just turned up in California. Some deities just will not give up and accept it when it's over."

He stood. “We'll see you, Miles."

He had made even less sense than usual. “What are you trying to tell me? Even Nick thought he was dead."

"Oh. Nick doesn't know everything, Miles. He just thinks he does. There is some doubt as to whether or not Ah Puch is completely dead. He may not be. He's probably a bit miffed with you. I was told to warn you. He is concerned about you."

"He who?” I asked.

"Him,” Death said.

"God?"

Death opened the door. “We'll see you, Miles."

"What am I supposed to do?” I asked.

"Beats me, Miles. I don't know. I was told to warn you. That's all I know. We'll see you, Miles. Thanks for the brandy.” And he was gone.

"It wasn't mine,” I told an empty room. I don't drink brandy. I didn't even own any brandy. Well, I sure got a lot of sleep that night.

The next morning, after watching me draw blood on two customers in a row, the Captain asked, “What's wrong with you today? You trying to kill our business?"

I could hardly explain Owl Head or talking to the Angel of Death the night before. “I didn't get much sleep last night.” The truth, but hardly the whole truth.

"Why don't you go home and get some rest before you cut someone's ear off,” the Captain suggested.

The Captain had been rather good to me. Most places would've fired me long ago. Who was I to argue? I headed for home and the chance to snooze in my bed. As I strolled along, I remembered the next day would be Sunday, and the shop was closed. I was going to get even more rest.

Thoughts of sleeping filled my head. I got myself so excited at the thought of getting to sleep that I was not paying a great deal of attention to the goings-on about me. I was almost home when a wagon came rather close to the sidewalk.

Two men jumped off and slid a large burlap sack over my head. Then somebody smacked my noggin, and I was out cold, not exactly what I had in mind by resting. And, I had just been warned I might be in danger.

Getting your head smacked is a great way to get a headache; the kind of headache that punished you for even moving or thinking. And the first thing I did was move and think.

I was definitely aboard a ship of some kind. I could tell that by the motion, which is unlike anything on dry land. I came to in a dark and dingy little room with steel bars in front of the only door. There was no window or any other opening that I could determine, not even a vent or airshaft. My first thoughts were back to childhood tales of the Barbary Coast, when hapless sailors were often drugged or clobbered, then spirited away, only to wake to discover they'd
volunteered
for a two year hitch on a whaling mission. But those days were over, I'd been told. Though, why someone would abduct a hapless barber off a city street remained a mystery.

I think I sat in that hold for at least a day, perhaps longer. Gradually, my head pounded less, though head pain was soon replaced by hunger.

Then, I finally heard voices outside. Two men with cold, dark eyes fumbled around and opened the gate that blocked the door. I was still tied up. They grabbed me and guided me along a narrow passage, then up a ladder and onto the deck. I'd been right, we were on a ship. I was aboard a small sailing vessel, the type normally used for inland waterways like the San Francisco Bay. This was not an ocean going vessel, so my growing fears of being hauled of to Shanghai were put to rest.

Based on the sun and all, I figured it was around midday. I was, it seemed, to be buried at sea. As I looked around, I noticed the islands just to our north looked like a string of islands I'd seen on maps of the area. We were only a few nautical miles northwest of the San Francisco Bay.

A hatch rolled open and Ah Puch climbed up. He was intact, though he seemed slightly different than before. Owl Head stared at me with those enormous eyes. “I am told you did not bring my revolver."

"Well, you didn't give me much notice,” I said.

"At least your horse won't be able to save you here. No one can save you out here,” he told me. “Are you surprised to see me?"

"I had a feeling this was going to happen.” Telling him about my warning from God would surely enrage him.

He pointed at his head. “The owl part was not completely destroyed by the monster. I heal quickly. My head part simply detaches, finds someone else, then attacks him, tears his head off, then burrows into the cavity.” He laughed. “And I am, once again, good as new."

"Why have you dragged me out here?"

"To kill you and bury you at sea, Mr. O'Malley, as payment for foiling my plans to take over California."

"I didn't foil your plans, that Martian did that,” I pointed out.

"Well, you shot me and took my revolver.” He jumped up and down a few times. Apparently, his big eyes saw something mine did not.

"Lookout, use your flags, signal the
Grasshopper
.” Then, he came over to me. “You're going to like this, Mr. O'Malley."

I had no idea what I was about to experience. “Like what?"

"What has been happening in shipbuilding?” Ah Puch asked.

"They're using more metal, less wood."

"Especially in warships. It's a shame you don't work for me. You're very clever.” He looked to the south again. “They're coming.” He jumped up and down. “They're coming.” He pointed at the horizon. “One of their plans was to bring troops around. They were going to bring troops along in ships. Most fighting ships are now being designed with metal. There are a lot of older ships still in service. They were going to bring their troops on wooden ships and just sail them into San Francisco Bay. Hah!"

Apparently, he was unaware that the uprising had failed. “I had contingencies in place, Mr. O'Malley. Contingencies!"

And that contingency was coming up alongside our little ship. It barely extended above the surface, with little windows that looked like bug eyes.

What there was of it that one could see was painted a dark green, making it almost a match with the murky water. In front, were two rows of sharp metal teeth. Even I could figure out it had but one purpose, to ram wooden-hulled ships and sink them.

The ropes binding me were starting to loosen. No one had checked them since I'd been brought on board. I decided, if I could keep Owl Head talking about his greatness, I might manage to work my way free, though what that might gain me remained to be determined. “I hear machinery, but I do not see any smoke. Steam powered?"

"Absolutely. Absolutely. It vents the smoke underwater. The enemy cannot shoot what he cannot see,” Ah Puch explained. “And, that naval transport that's approaching will never see it until it is too late. It's fast, too. No crew quarters or armory to weigh it down—just those teeth out in front of it. I'm so proud of this. I thought about putting you back in the hold. You'd never get out of there. I can't even get out of there. But, I decided you should see this before you die."

"Great Lord,” the lookout yelled, “they are signaling us to lower our sails and be boarded."

He made a sort of hand gesture. The attack vessel he'd called the
Grasshopper
started moving along. It went around our ship, then turned on an intercept course straight for the naval schooner. Ah Puch jumped up and down again. “This is so exciting, so wonderfully exciting."

There was something else moving in the water that day. Another ship with an American flag was on the move. This one had come from around the islands we were near. It was metal-clad and bearing down on us really fast. Its guns opened up and shells struck our stern. The ship pitched and rolled violently from the impact. “Damn, that's most inconvenient.” Ah Puch went just past the hole that led down to the place I'd been held, and peered overboard. “We're taking on water.” The ship was starting to list as the aft area lowered in the waves.

I got free and gave him a swift hard kick to his rear end. He tumbled down the ladder. I followed right behind him and gave him another boot, right into the hold I'd been in. I slapped the gate shut and locked it. “The Captain always goes down with his ship, Ah Puch."

Just as I got topside again, we were rocked with another round; this one tore open the midsection. I noticed the
Grasshopper
was spinning around in a circle and smoking badly. I also noticed there were no lifeboats on the ship I was on, and we were going down fast. I took a running leap and landed in the water. Since moving to San Francisco, I'd been told the waters off the northern California coast are very cold.

A few seconds after impact, I realized I had been told the truth. The cold water was going to do what Ah Puch had not. I was not going to make it.

My body started to lose control of itself. I soon faded from consciousness as seawater started finding its way into my nose and mouth.

Then, I was choking and coughing the sea out of my innards. Somehow, I had a blanket wrapped around me, and Angel was holding me in her arms.

"Wu huh?"

"Don't try and talk, Mr. O'Malley,” she whispered. “Your lungs are half full of sea water."

I pointed, not sure what direction, but I pointed. “Wu huh!"

Angel stroked my soggy hair. “The ship went down. We have captured the little attack boat."

"Wu huh?"

"We figured he'd expect us to bring troops around from the east, by ship if his fool plan had worked. The navy has been out here, looking for something like this. We were ready. We have guns and things, Miles."

I drifted off after that. I next woke in a room. The room was rather Spartan, but I was warm and alive. I looked out the window. I recognized an old Spanish fort and concluded I must be at the Presidio. I sat myself up. Soon, a really pretty nurse came in and gave me a glass of water. Later, a doctor came by and listened to my lungs. He decided I was not dead and told me to go home. Two soldiers took me home in a wagon.

And, the next day was Monday. I had to drag myself out of bed and go to work. The Captain asked me, “Miles, did you get any rest this weekend?"

"Sure,” I said.

"You don't look it,” I answered.

"I know."

I'd headed out west pretty much ignorant of horses. We had a few for plowing on the farm I grew up on, but never managed much riding. Then, along came Paul into my life. I could not really imagine life without him.

Yet, in my new environment in San Francisco, a horse was not the necessity one is out in most western places. They'd built an ingenious contraption known as a cable car that one could get all the way downtown on, or even to the Bay. There were also plenty of wagons for hire. One could use these cabs for a nominal fee to get where one needed to go. So, it was not surprising that my landlady and my employer were, now and then, passing along subtle hints that I might look into life without a horse. Their logic was that a man of limited means who lived in a boarding house could use his money to other purposes.

They might have been right. But, they could hardly understand that I would not even be alive if it were not for Paul. I could no more part with him than my left arm. However, there was no way to adequately explain this to people like them. “Well, the devil gave him to me and...” was not a practical explanation. So, I usually grunted and ate my greens as I tried to ignore them. I'd even considered going on the road again, to a place where a horse might be more appreciated. Still, the mining towns had little to call me back to them.