The Resurrectionist. Sierra Woods
I maneuvered myself closer and stood again. How could I stop this before they killed the only person who knew what had happened to Roberto? I could shoot my gun into the air, but in this part of town it probably wouldn’t get any attention.
Fortunately, my years of martial arts had given me some muscle, and I used it now. Elbowing my way through, I nearly fell on top of Julio, who was pummeling his fists into Filberto’s face. The men of the family, some of whom were certainly armed, stood in a protective half circle around the two and let Julio wail on Filberto.
“Stop it!” It was like talking to a couple of pit bulls who had their teeth into each other. I tackled Julio. What else could I do? We fell to the ground, and Julio pulled back with an elbow that landed in my chest. That was gonna hurt later. “If you kill him, we’ll never know where Roberto is.” I didn’t say I thought Roberto was already dead and we needed to recover the body, if possible, for a resurrection and life-swap.
Julio stood abruptly, then I realized he had help. Sam had yanked him to his feet and shoved him into the arms of his cousins. “Hold him.” He pointed to two of the larger men. Without question, they complied and held on to Julio. Now, why don’t men react like that to my direction? That’s just disgusting. Machismo at its finest.
I grabbed hold of Filberto’s shirt, yanking him to a sitting position. He was bloody, and his eyes were swelling shut. Most of his wounds appeared superficial, like a fat lip that bled as if he’d bitten through it, but who knew about what was going on in his brain. He could have damage I couldn’t sense.
“Don’t touch me,” he cried and put his hands up like a girl.
“Oh, please, give it up. You’re caught, so just can the innocent routine.” I hated touching him, even by the shirt, but had to.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Sam, who glowed with his own sort of angry-red aura.
“I followed you.” Sam moved closer to me. “You were supposed to call me if something came up.”
“Had a late case come in.”
“What did you do to my son?” Julio cried and strained against the arms of his cousins. Though he wasn’t the biggest man in the yard, he was fueled by the need for vengeance and to tear something apart. That’s different from the need for justice, which is where I came in.
“Where’s my son?” Juanita collapsed on the ground at his feet, sobbing. The night was alive with cries.
“Yeah, Filberto. What did you do to Roberto?”
Filberto swayed back and forth. Sam and I had to hold him upright. He might be more hurt than I first thought. Although I had not been gifted with X-ray vision, I was a nurse, so I could keep his ass alive long enough to get some information out of him. He wasn’t really hurt. Not hurt like Roberto. I shook him. “Where’s Roberto?”
“Gone.”
In that word, I knew everything. Just once I’d like to be disappointed and have a happy ending, but that’s apparently not my karma this time around. “Dammit.” Focusing, I heaved out a sigh, then took a deep breath and steeled myself against the pain that was going to saturate me the second I touched his skin. I placed the heel of my hand on Filberto’s forehead and let my fingers fall over the top of his head. This was the only way I knew to access another person’s memories. It hurt me to do this. Physically, emotionally and spiritually I would suffer for days, trying to get the stench of someone else’s mind out of mine, but I had to do it. For this family to recover their loved one, I had to do it.
After a glance at Sam to link myself in the present, I closed my eyes and let it wash over me.
Flashes of light hit me first. Then I sort of saw a slow-motion movie playing, and I was the only one watching it. Filberto had picked up Roberto at the school. They got into a car and drove away. Filberto sweating and cursing himself all the way as memories of his own molestations filled him. So many years, so many hidden secrets and lies had finally bubbled up out of him. He couldn’t help it, or that’s what he told himself, as he choked the life out of Roberto’s little body and tucked it away at the edge of a rock outcropping. Then he raced away and returned to Albuquerque before he was missed.
Pulling myself out of the memory, I gritted my teeth against the impulse to pick up where Julio had left off. My stomach cramped, and I wanted to vomit.
“I know where he is.” I removed my hand from Filberto’s forehead, then wiped my palm on my jeans. They were going in the washer as soon as I got home.
“He’s alive?” Julio asked, the fragile hope in his voice staggering.
“I’m sorry, Julio.” I hated this part, but it had to be done swiftly if there was to be a chance of recovery. “No. His body is out in the lava fields between Laguna and Grants.” There was little hope of us finding his remains, but we could try. Many people had been lost out there and never recovered despite massive search operations. How was little ol’ me going to find him? Help?
“Where’s my baby?” Juanita screeched and raced at Filberto with a knife in her hand. Before I could think of moving, she reached out and struck Filberto across the face, blood spattering from the wound. “Where’s my son?”
Sam and two others tackled Juanita and divested her of the weapon. I grabbed a fistful of Filberto’s hair and held his face up as anger, hot and bright, coursed through me. “You look at these people, at that boy’s mother, and tell us what you did.”
“I killed him.” He squinted through eyes already narrowed to slits by the beating he’d taken. I wanted to reach into his head and pull his brain out through his nostrils. “I didn’t mean to, but I had to.”
“What do you mean, you had to kill him?” I asked, really not wanting to know the answer to that, but pretty certain I was going to be sick once I heard it. A quick image of The Dark flashed in my mind. Could this be the influence Burton had talked of? Could The Dark have made Filberto act when he wouldn’t have otherwise?
“He would have told. He would have told!” Filberto breathed through his mouth, as his nose was most certainly broken, if the swelling was any indication.
“Did you hurt him?” I knew he had, but I wanted him to tell the family.
Sobs made Filberto’s head wobble, and he cried, feeling sorry for himself. Not what I wanted to see, but confession was supposedly good for the soul. I’d just rather hear the story than have all the blubbering along with it. “I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop myself.”
“Did you touch Roberto in a way you weren’t supposed to?”
“Y-e-s.”
Anguish as you’ve never heard ripped the night to shreds. Sam and I looked at each other as we were shoved out of the way. There was no reasoning with an angry mob, and certainly no reasoning with a family who was rightfully justified in tearing apart one of their own.
“We have to stop this.” I held on to Sam’s shirt. He tried to put me behind him, to protect me. He’s such a guy. But I hardly needed protecting. After dying once, I learned what to really fear, and these people weren’t it.
We shoved into the group. We needed to get to the middle of this, where the action was, and prevent them from killing him.
Dropping onto my knees, I was able to crawl through and around the others. Not as dignified as I would have liked, but I got through and pulled my weapon. “Stop it.” Sam joined me, on his feet, and drew his gun, too.
“We need him alive,” Sam said.
“He doesn’t deserve to live! He killed my baby.” Juanita dissolved into a puddle on the ground. The women surrounded her and held on to her. The atmosphere in the yard was changing, becoming darker and malignant. A dark cloud or mist appeared overhead, but failed to manifest into anything