THE GOD OF VENGEANCE

A story meant for a pulp/blog i had started for a collective group of writers to contribute. The blog never caught on.

She heard the music of Tuskenian men and felt a shiver down her back. Timpani and flute were the instruments that brought death to the victims of the Furakah gang. They controlled the City of Kyulah, the heart Tuskenia in the mountains of India.

Kate Mcbain was on a mission. She was there to find the key to the box of shadows and light. That would bring an end to all of her worries. And no one, least of all a group cutthroats were not going to stop her.

Kate and her men, consisting of Graham, her body guard and partner in this quest, Moguhla, her guide, and Clint, the young, often impetuous big-mouth of the group, but was also handy with a six shooter; was headed north across the mountains on a bridge made of tasseled rope with the Furakah close behind them.

Kate's troubles began five years ago when her Father, Dr. Douglas Mcbain, was murdered and the crime was never solved.

Mcbain left a nightclub called the Half Moon with a woman named Betty Blue, a performer for that club. In the morning, Dr. Mcbain was discovered hunched over his desk with a bullet hole in the back of his head the size of a silver dollar. Betty Blue had given a statement Dr. Mcbain left her apartment at midnight, when witnesses had seen them both at the club at closing hour, 2:00 A.M. With a mysterious man.

Her Father had no enemies to speak of, and Kate had no idea he'd been dating, especially a woman half his age and half his intelligence. No fingerprints, no other leads.

The Police were dumbfounded.

Kate swore she'd find the killer and seek vengeance.

In mere moments, the music drew closer to them as they tried to cross the rope bridge in their jeep. Gun shots were fired and several bullets zipped past their heads like buzzing flies. Kate looked behind her to see ten armed men in the back of a military truck.

“The Furakah...” Kate whispered.

Clint was driving, but not paying attention, drew his Colt and fired twice, the revolver resting just above Mogulah's head. Mogulah curse him in Arabic.

“Look out!” Screamed Graham, trying to take control of the wheel.

It was too late, the front end of the jeep was hanging off a cliff. If anyone moved, the whole vehicle would take a nosedive into the heart of the Indian valley.

Kate closed her eyes and prayed for help. She could hear the other three fight among each other until another vehicle pulled in behind them. She continued her prayer, even as the voices of her men quieted down. Then she heard a familiar voice.

“Kate, darling. Why in the hell would you let your Father's obsession drag half way across the world?”

Kate opened her eyes to find Ross Holland leaning in the teetering jeep. The tall, muscular blond man was grinning from ear to ear. He had one of the creepiest smiles Kate had ever seen, which was a reason she never found him interesting enough to go further than share her Father's work with him.

“Fancy seeing you here, Ross,” Kate laughed nervously.

“Yes, strange that we should meet up again. Haven't seen you since---”

“Since my Father fired you, Ross.” The jeep rocked back and forth slightly. Kate swallowed hard, dug her nails into the car seat.

“That's not a very happy memory, Katie, darling.”

“You shouldn't have sold the Gillespie Cross from underneath Father.” Kate shot back.

“Bloody hell, darling, it was for everyone's best intentions.”

“Look,” Clint piped up. “Is there any way you two can bicker after someone saves us?'

“Yes,” Ross said. “I think the boy is right.” Ross yelled to the Furakahs in an Hindu dialect and they immediately went to work on pulling the jeep out of harm's way.

Hours later, the Fuakahs led Kate and her men to camp. The others were led to a tent of their own. While Kate was led to Ross' personal quarters. As she entered the tent, Kate saw tall dark haired woman lounging on pillows.

“Oh my God!” Betty Blue threw her head back and let out a healthy laugh. “Everything comes full circle, doesn't it.”

Kate folded her arms, a gentle breeze blew a few of her red strands hair in her face.

“It's not much of a surprise your here with Ross. Now I understand.”

“Do you, darling?” Ross entered the tent and took hold of a giggling Betty Blue and kissed her long and hard.

“You didn't have to kill Father for this item.” Kate said.

“Oh sure I did! I have a private collector for this Bloodflower Mummy. You wouldn't believe how much this man in Germany was willing to pay.”

“I get goose bumps just thinking how much money we're getting!” Betty exclaimed.

“I'm sure you could have stolen the key from him.”

“I did,” Ross help up a skeleton key carved out of granite. On the sides of it were engraved markings in Hindu. “I also needed your Father out of the way. He would just muck things up.”

Kate's face fell. She didn't know her Father had the key to the Bloodflower tomb. “Then what was that business from a Dr. Denning sending me and my crew out here?”

Ross began laughing, Betty joined in.

“Oh,” Kate said. “You are Dr. Denning. Why the game.”

“That's when this story gets really interesting, darling. Do you know the myth of the Bloodflower Tomb?”

“I didn't have time--”

“Kate, I can't believe you didn't follow your Father's advise. Always do the research. Anyways, it seems this tomb harbors more than just a silly corpse. It's the corpse of an apparent God! A Hindu God...the God of Vengeance...wait....he's also the God of Death. Isn't that rich?”

“I still don't understand why you need us, Ross.”

“There seems to be two types of people involved in this affair, darling. Those who believe in Blood flower---which is spectacular story�"the name! He, the God, Dailis, when death is extracted from his all powerful fingertips, a marigold appears bleeding...hence the name. Oh, yes I saying. The types who are involved are non-believers, such as yourself. And those who are believers. I fall in that category as does the chap in Germany. Did I mention he is head of the government there?

“Oh, moving on...Your presence will make it easier for me to meet this God Dailis by giving your life to him. Isn't that exciting!”

At this moment, the obvious leader of the Furakas entered the tent. He whispered in Ross' ear. That awful smile appeared on his face. He sighed. He looked over at Betty, took her hand. “It's nearing midnight I'm being informed.” He turns to Kate. “It's time, darling. Your men have already been escorted to the tomb. You will join them.”

The tomb was a cave not more than hundred yards from camp. Kate was tied as well as the other three. It seemed Clint tried to talk his way out of the situation and was unsuccessful by the looks of the bruises on his face. Mogullah had already begun his prayer in Hindu.

Graham had been tight lipped and stone faced until he saw Kate join them. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “I want you to know, Kate. I have loved you since the first day I met you.”

“Graham, don't do this.” Kate said. “Your making this difficult.”

“I needed you to know, I will take my love for to my grave, and it will not be in vain.”

“How touching.,” Ross stated. “But you are keeping the man of the hour.” He pushed Graham out of his way, dangled the granite key in Kate's face. Ross yelled in Hindu at the leader of Furakahs to begin and the man bowed in front of the closed off entrance of the tomb. From the Hindu's lips a prayer was whispered. A prayer to the God of Vengeance and Death.

Ross placed the granite key in the stone keyhole and turned to left. The stone door moved and a light appeared in the dark tomb. It grew brighter as each of Kate's men were shoved inside the tomb. Finally Kate was pushed inside.

Still, the Furakah chanted faster, bobbing his head up and down, his words intertwining.

The light went dim.

Ross listened, there were no screams. He was puzzled. Maybe it was all a lie. This God of Vengeance and Death was just a myth. He was curious. He had to see. He motioned for the Furakah to enter the tomb. The leader stopped chanting, went with his men. After them, only after them, did Ross enter the tomb.

Kate and her men were still alive. No corpse had risen. No death from anyone's fingertips.

“This is a travesty!” Ross stomped his feet. He turned to the leader of the Furakah. “How dare you con me!” Ross took a pistol from the man's belt and shot him twice in chest. The Furakah men were stunned as everyone else when the body of the leader fell to the ground.

Under Ross' boots small white things moved, slithered rather. It began as a few, which turned into ten. Then twenty, then a hundred, finally thousands of bone-white maggots had consumed Ross.

He screamed as his entire body was covered, only the outline of him remained. It was followed by the Furakahs screams. All of them suffering the same fate as Ross.

Kate closed her eyes and said her prayers.

Silence came. Kate would only reopen her eyes at the request of Clint. “Look,” He said. “Kate, look damn you!”

Kate opened her eyes to find a tall skeletal man in a robe standing before her. His face consisted of two large red eyes set deep inside two black holes. His ivory skin had several small maggots crawling in and out as if trying to find somewhere to rest. There was that grin, where part of his blackened lips had been caught by a fishing hook and pulled to the left, exposing a cheekbone.

She held her breath, anticipating death.

Instead, the ropes that bound her and her men, dissolved and fell to their feet. She looked up in awe of the God of Vengeance and death.

“Now what?” She said to the robed figure, who was now sitting in a corner of his tomb, facing away from everyone.

“I obey you, but first I must rest.” Dailis said.

“Why didn't you kill us?” Kate approached him, stopped halfway.

“You did not speak the wrong prayer...nor was your heart black as the night.”

“Look,” Mogulah pointed to where the skeletal remains of Ross were laying.

A marigold had grown from his ribcage. Blood dripped from it's petals into a pool of red forming on the floor of the tomb.