Page 56 of Vice
For one terrible second I expect nothing to happen, but then a wall of sound blasts through the house, deafening, rattling the windowpanes in their frames. I’ve only heard the alarm once, when I was out in the forest with Natalia, and it was ear-splittingly loud then. Now, it feels as though the sound is alive, shaking the house with its bare hands, determined to raze it to the motherfucking ground.
This is not a practical alarm. It’s designed to strike the fear of god into the inhabitants of the house, Fernando’s Servicio, to warn them of what will happen if they step out of line. I’d say that it probably works.
I pick up a heavy cut glass ashtray sitting on the edge of Fernando’s desk, and I use it to smash the button off the wall. I have no idea if you disable the alarm by hitting the button again, but better safe than sorry.
Then, I’m running.
I don’t go back the way I’ve come. That way leads to too many people, and also to Harrison and his men. I race in the opposite direction, running as fast as I can until I reach the side entrance with the keypad Natalia led me to when we came down the mountain the other day. Thankfully I don’t need a key code to get out. The door smashes into the wall as I rip it open, and the heavy steel vibrates, making a jarring, warped, popping sound. Behind me, I hear screaming.
Outside, the night air is cool and smells of smoke. I don’t know what’s burning, but the air is thick with the acrid twist of something on fire. I carry on running, skirting the perimeter of the house until I reach the patio, where Fernando’s precious lawn begins. Hoards of people have spilled out of the house and are rushing about on the grass, mostly naked, trying to find their clothes or each other. Harrison is out there, too, squinting into the dark, presumably trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.
I stay hidden in the shadows. I need to find Fernando. If Harrison sees me now, he’s gonna be right on top of me, fucking up my plans. Side stepping, I duck low, holding my breath, waiting.
A sound slices through the night air, sending a ripple of panic through the crowd on the front lawn—a single solitary howl. A number of people begin to rally, holding each other’s hands, dashing back toward the house, as if they’re running for cover—the Servicio. They may be out of their minds on black tar heroin, but they’re conscious enough to recognize the low, blasting bass of the wolves’ alarm sounding from multiple speakers mounted onto the outside of the house, and they’re not sticking around to wait for the monsters to arrive.
Everyone is scattered, clueless, running into each other in their haste to escape the unknown threat.
Fernando’s in front of the house, then, head shaking from side to side as he tries to comprehend what’s happening. He looks furious, his brow pinched as he takes in the madness. “Please, everybody, be calm. We will have this under control shortly. Head back inside.”
Aside from the Servicio, who know better, no one else looks like they plan on heading back inside. It goes against their nature. They’ve been trained for as long as they can remember that an alarm as shocking and aggressive as this means evacuation. The smoke, wherever it’s coming from, isn’t helping matters as far as their panic levels are concerned. I’m sure they must think the house is on fire or something, which isn’t going to persuade them back indoors any time soon.
I need to separate Fernando from Harrison and his men. I need to somehow get him on his own. I’ve been patient thus far, so I’m just going to have to be wait a little longer. In the forefront of my mind, as I’m crouched down in the dark, I’m freaking the fuck out. Where is Natalia? I don’t see her outside anywhere. Would Fernando have left her on her own? If he had, would he have left her with someone surely? She’s a capable woman, but I can’t help myself. I’m worried about her.
The wolves howl again, and this time there are many voices joining the song. They are on their way. I shiver a little as I picture what’s about to go down—the violence and the bloodshed that will be unavoidable once the animals arrive.
I don’t feel bad. I’ve been pushed too far here, in this fucking evil place. I won’t help Fernando’s guests as they’re mauled to death. I will step over the shredded remains of their bodies as I walk away. Not a scrap of guilt will plague me as I go.
It won’t be long before it begins.
Overhead, somewhere on the second floor, a window breaks, sending shattered glass raining down to the ground. I can hear the tinkling, smashing sound as people scream. Looking back over my shoulder, I finally see the source of the smoke in the air: flames rushing out of one of the bedroom windows, angry red and orange tongues of light licking up the façade of the building. What remains of the curtain material billows out of the yawning window frame, being consumed by the roaring blaze.
“Fuck!” Harrison screams. “That’s my room.”
Fernando graces him with a disgusted look. “Just find Garrett. Do your job.”
Harrison runs out into the dark, gun raised, talking into his earpiece. Apart from the fact that his bedroom is on fire, he must be feeling pretty vindicated right now. If Fernando had listened to him in the first place, I’d already be dead. I wouldn’t be running around out here in the dark, ruining their party and generally making trouble for them.
Now that Fernando’s on his own, I’m in a prime position to make my move. I get ready, preparing to race around the front of the house, take the steps three at a time and grab the motherfucker. But just as I’m about to go, I hear something that has me hugging the wall again, attempting to vanish into the darkness:
Jurassic 5.
I spin around, and there he is, Ocho, headphones blasting music louder than ever, and I don’t have time to react. I’ve been so focused on Harrison and Fernando’s whereabouts that I forgot about the weathered old mute man. He lifts his arm, and a jolt of ice-cold adrenalin slaps me hard. I’m expecting him to have a gun, for him to shoot me dead, but he doesn’t. The object he’s holding in his hand is much larger than that, and unmistakable in its shape—a garden shovel.
As he brings the flat blade if the shovel down, swinging it through the air, I kick myself. I should have really been more observant. I should have seen this coming.
******
I don’t know how long I’m out for. My head is throbbing as I crack my eyelids open, and the sound of people screaming fills my ears. The night sky overhead looks orange, great clouds of dirty gray smoke funnelling upwards, and I think I’m about to throw up. I am no longer by the side of the house. I’m laid out on a small patch of dirt, surrounded by trees, maybe only twenty feet away. I can see the grand white building in snatches through the forest, people running, the flash of fur and teeth as something lithe and limber runs by. God, my head is killing me. It hurts to fucking blink.
“You didn’t need to hit him so hard,” a voice whispers in the dark. “He probably won’t be able to walk now.”
My stomach rolls. I’m having fucking hallucinations. Ocho is looming over me like a paunchy, sour-faced statue, his face cast in highlight and shadow, making him look even sterner than normal. And next to him, my sister is pulling a knife out of a cracked leather sheath, turning the blade this way and that in the dim light. She looks down at me, shaking her head. There are dark circles under her eyes, and her blonde hair is dirty, knotted in a snarled tangle around her head. She looks like she’s just gone five rounds in a cage fight.
“Ha!” I laugh, then wincing at the sharp bolt of pain that needles me in the head. “I thought the dead would look a little more glamorous in the afterlife.”
Ocho makes a loud gurgling sound, stabbing a finger toward the forest, twisting his left hand around in a series of strange gestures that my dead sister seems to understand. “I know, I know,” she hisses. “But he’s completely out of it. Look at him.”
Ocho does look down at me, and he doesn’t seem too impressed. More gurgling, and more hand gestures follow. His headphones are looped around his neck, silenced, and I realize that this bizarre, out of body hallucination I’m having is the first time I’ve ever seen the man try to communicate with anyone. He makes a growling sound, pretending to gnash his teeth together. My sister shakes her head, sighing. “They’re not going to attack us,” she says. “Not when there are so many people out there to pick off.”
