“Meche, I…” I wasn’t sure how to answer. I’d had a lot of time to think it over, ever since Salvador had shipped me off to Rubacava. There were LSA objectives, sure, and personal obligations, but, really, “I needed to find you.” When you boiled it all down, everything else was just details.
And then Meche flew into my arms when the deck lurched suddenly. I stumbled backwards but managed to keep us both on our feet. The hull rang like a bell from the impact. Souls rushed to the port rail to look down over the side. Surfacing below us was the same submarine Glottis and I had hitched a ride on. A hatch popped open and Domino emerged. “I gave you one job, Manny,” he shouted right at me, as if he knew just where I would be standing, “and look at you… already screwing it up!”
Well, this was a really bad scene. La Mancha was limping along with one engine, the sub could run rings around us, was probably armed, and we could have sprung any number of leaks when it rammed us. But, for the moment, Domino was focused on me. That was an advantage for everyone on the tanker… I hoped. Before anyone could stop me, I leapt over the side and dropped down to the deck of the sub.
Domino had his scythe out by the time I landed. Figures. He was just the kind of guy to practice Oxford-regulation boxing and then pull out a blade when it actually came time to fight. “I suppose you realize,” he crowed, “that this is gonna go down on your permanent record!”
I snapped my own scythe open. I had often wondered why I had kept it, the last couple of years. Now, I was simply glad I had it. “Look, Dom,” I snarled, “I’m not gonna work for you!”
“Oh, don’t worry about that, Manny,” he sneered. “You’re fired. Just consider this,” his scythe whooshed past my head, “your severance.”
We locked blades. Domino twisted his around and I went down. “This doesn’t look good for the kid!” he laughed, bringing the butt of his scythe down with a clang right where my head had been a second before.
I jumped up and swung, but only managed to slice his coat sleeve. He looked more angry than worried. I’d probably ruined an expensive suit, for all its cheap appearance. “Smart strategy,” he said, jabbing a forefinger at me, “always let your boss win.” He swung. I went down again. My skull bounced hard against the sub’s deck. “At least at the Christmas party you passed out before you really got hurt!” he jeered.
“Manny!” I heard Meche shout from far above. “The octopus!”
At first I didn’t understand. The octopus was inside the sub. It wasn’t a threat. But then I got it. The thing’s ‘head’ was jammed up in a tower toward the front of the sub, it’s eyes staring out of two half-globes of glass on either side. Realizing that I was the threat, I spun around and buried my scythe in one of the demon’s monstrous eyes.
The sub rocked violently as the octopus jerked its ‘head’ out of the tower. Domino almost went over, but ‘almost’ doesn’t count. The giant hatch amidships crashed open and the octopus jetted away, trailing pink blood.
Domino stared after it. He turned toward me and shouted, sounding incredulous, “I don’t believe you, Calavera!” He smashed the butt of his scythe into the deck in anger. “You’re losing a fight so you pick on one of my pets?” His voice rose shrilly to the question. He seemed to move only slightly, but the next thing I knew I was flat on my back, skull ringing and vision swimming, looking up as Domino continued to rage over me.
“Why aren’t you more like me, Manny?” he demanded, sounding absurdly hurt. “I’ve been trying to show you how, but you just—don’t—listen!” He emphasized his point by waving his scythe in my face, coming near to popping my skull off. “If you’d just adopt the proper attitude, look what could happen to you!” He spread his arms wide, as if that would give me a better view of what he was.
Just then a heavy rope snaked down and knocked him to the deck. I staggered to my feet and grabbed the rope. I started climbing while Glottis, up on La Mancha’s deck, began hauling up the rope. I looked down when he got a panicked look on his face, and saw Domino following me up. I tried to climb faster but I was having problems seeing where I was putting my hands. Glottis stopped pulling, his face creased in thought. Then he started yanking the rope up faster than before.
When I got even with the deck, Glottis reached down and practically flung me back onto the ship. Meche ran over to me when I landed, while I watched Domino climbing over the rail. Glottis grabbed him by the neck and hoisted him up into the air. Domino reached into his coat and pulled out a gun. Glottis grabbed the hand holding the daisy maker, yanked it off, and threw it overboard.
Domino screamed.
Glottis went on to systematically tear Domino to pieces, tossing each bone in turn over the side. Domino’s screams got more and more shrill until he was just a skull. Then Glottis tore away his jaw and threw it and the now-silent skull overboard.
No one on deck moved, or even made a sound, through all of this.
Glottis turned to me, to where I half-lay on the deck with Meche frozen beside me in the act of helping me up. “You were right, Manny,” he said, sounding perfectly normal. “Sometimes you gotta hurt somebody to help people.”
“Are you… alright, Glottis?” I asked slowly.
“Yeah, sure,” he said.
“OK,” was all I could say in response.
“Well,” he said, walking away from the port side of the ship, “I guess I’d better go and see if that sub did any damage. ’Scuse me,” Glottis said to the astonished Sister Calabaza as he pushed past her toward the nearest hatch and went below.
“¡Dios mío!” Meche exclaimed softly.
Puerto Zapato and the End of the Line
I don’t think there was anyone sorry that Domino got what he deserved, although many were uncomfortable with how it happened. None of the former prisoners had any real experience with demons, apart from Domino’s ‘pets’, and they were afraid that Glottis might suddenly turn on them. I did my best to keep imaginations from running wild, but I understood the fear. It might have been easier for them to take if Glottis hadn’t been so calmly methodical about pulling Domino apart. Near as I could discover, when Domino drew his rod some unsuspected instinct kicked in and Glottis simply acted on it. He wasn’t angry, nor out of control; it was just something he had to do, and he did it with the least amount of fuss possible. That, to me, was pretty creepy. Meche tried putting a Sergeant York spin on it, but that only worked on the souls who had seen the movie.
Once Glottis was certain we weren’t taking on water, I made him go to bed and made sure he stayed there. After three days he became so restless I let him go back to work. His color was a lot better, and his nose was cold and wet, so I figured he was OK. He, along with Albert and the others who had helped repair the ship, went to work on the number two engine.
The journey to Puerto Zapato was slow and difficult. There weren’t many real sailors on board besides me and Glottis. The survivors of La Mancha’s wreck were very few, not even half a dozen, and most of them were needed in the engine room. I had one guy to help keep the ship on course and that was it. I had to run the ship mostly using complete neophytes. That was tough on everyone. There was a lot of frustration, tedium and confusion all wrapped up in a nearly derelict ship.