David Wiltse - Bone Deep

Kiwasee felt himself gagging as his tongue sealed off his throat. He tried to say McNeil's name again but only a strangling gargle came out.

He sat on his haunches, grabbing his throat so the devil would understand.

"I know, I know, but I can't do anything for you here. Everything I need to help you is over there." He pointed to the island.

Nothing over there but a hole in the ground, thought Kiwasee. And you going to put me in it. He struggled for breath, but exaggerated the battle for the devil's sake. He put his good hand on the devil's pants leg, begging for help. "I can't carry you over there," the devil said.

"You've got to get there yourself Come on now, I'll take care of you when we get over there."

Kiwasee threw his hand straight up, catching the devil in the groin with all the force he could muster. The devil yelled and staggered back and Kiwasee yanked his foot out from under him. The devil toppled backward down the incline, his head landing in the water with a splash that sent droplets of shining diamonds into the moonlight. They formed a brief but brilliant halo around his head before falling back to water.

Kiwasee scrambled atop the devil, forcing his head under water with his good hand at the devil's throat. He tried to get his working leg onto the devil's stomach so he could bring all of his weight to bear, but the devil struggled frantically, twisted to one side and threw Kiwasee into the water.

As Kiwasee struggled up, the devil grabbed the shovel and swung. Kiwasee got his arm up in time to ward off the blow, but it drove him a step deeper into the water. The shovel came again, then again, and Kiwasee cowered within the shelter of his two arms, feeling the metal bang onto his shoulders, his elbows, his flesh and bones. Each blow sapped him, made it harder to protect himself. There was no art to the devil's attack, and no variation, he was simply pounding Kiwasee as if he were an obstacle that must eventually succumb to brute force. Kiwasee tried to lunge at the devil but his bad leg was useless and he sank to his knees in the black water, still holding his arms around his head. The devil could hit down at him now and the power of the blows was greater.

Some them defeated his arms and struck Kiwasee on the head of and shoulders and neck. "Ain't going to tell what I saw," Kiwasee tried to say, not even sure if the words made it out of his mouth or were trapped in his head. "Ain't going to tell. Didn't see nothing." But he had seen what he had seen and the devil knew it. It had started when he saw a man crawl from the window of the house where McNeil lied and insisted he had never been, and it continued when he saw the devil digging on the island, and now the devil was making him pay. This was no bluff like the gas in McNeil's garage, this time the devil would kill him sure. He never should have fucked with McNeil, he should have let it pass, be dissed and let it go. Never should have come back to his house. Never should have called the chief, never should have sought revenge. 'Cause now he was going to die for it, he knew it. His arms must be broken, he thought, although even then he was surprised how little anything actually hurt. He could feel the terrible pounding, but not the pain.

His arms weary from fending off the unending blows, Kiwasee fell at last to all fours. His exposed head drooped toward the surface of the water.

He waited like a man with his head on the block.

To his surprise no final blow came. The devil stood panting at the water's edge. For a moment, like two exhausted gladiators, they stayed in place eyeing each other.

The devil spoke first. "Love conquers all." He laughed a little. "Now you got to get up on that island," he said. "That's all I wanted you to do in the first place. I don't know why you're being so unreasonable about this."

"Gon' kill me," Kiwasee breathed.

"Love cures all ills, didn't you know that? You get on that island and Love is going to cure you." Kiwasee moved his head slowly from side to side. "Kill me."

"I don't want to have to hit you anymore," said Captain Luv. "But I will if you make me."

"Know you will. You the devil."

"What? What are you saying?"

"Devil."

"Devil? Did you say devil?"

"You know you the devil."

"Me?" Luv laughed. "Me? I'm Captain Love. I be Cap'n Luvvv."

"Be crazy," muttered Kiwasee. A strange calm had descended over him. He never thought he would die in a place like Clamden. All the dangers at home, the knifings, the shootings, the drive-bys. Man would gut you for dissing him, firebomb your apartment for insulting him, bumping into him, just looking at him wrong. Nothing here in Clamden to hurt you but bunnies and squirrels and chickenshit commuters. And one insane cop.

And the devil himself.

Kiwasee crawled onto the island, impervious to the briers and brambles that tore at him and ripped his clothing. It didn't matter now, nothing much mattered now. He was too tired to resist, too weary of being hit.

He just didn't care, he wanted it over with. But when he reached the hole that the devil had been digging and saw the plastic bag lying next to it, he began to cry. He forgot the injuries, he forgot his exhaustion, he forgot everything except his desire to live.

"Don' kill me," he wept. "I ain't seen nothing, I won't tell nothing."

"It's all right," the devil said soothingly, his voice close to Kiwasee's ear. "It's all right."

"Don' want to die."

"You're just going to feel pressure," said Luv. "It won't really hurt."

He sat on Kiwasee's back, forcing him to his stomach. Kiwasee's head was over the open hole in the earth. Luv gripped Kiwasee's neck in his gloved hand.

"You mustn't struggle, it will help you, it will make you feel better. I won't hit you with the shovel anymore, I promise, just let me do this, it's good for you. You see, it's just pressure, it's not pain, it doesn't hurt at all. Your pain is even going away, isn't it, do you feel it leaving? Feel how warm my hand is, doesn't that feel good, doesn't that make it feel better? It's just pressure, it's not hurting you… That's it, that's it… that's it."

Luv felt the beast roar to life within him as he clenched Kiwasee's neck, shutting off the brain like slowly turning down a rheostat. He had fought Kiwasee to save himself, fought out of necessity and adrenaline, but now the glorious beast took over and Luv felt the thrill course through him as the man beneath him gave up the last resistance.

He wanted to howl with the lust of it, throw back his head like a wolf and rend the night air with his accomplishment, his mastery, his complete control.

He lay for a long time atop Kiwasee, his body pressed against the dead man's, his erection like a rock.

Luv stood at last, still dizzy with excitement. He'd killed a man, a man. He hadn't planned it, it had just happened, out of necessity, but the killing had summoned forth his glorious beast. The mania had not caused him to kill, the killing had brought forth the ecstasy. Luv pondered the implications giddily. Did this mean that he was in control of it? Did it mean that he could cause it to happen whenever he chose?

He would have to think about the meaning, but right now he was still too exhilarated to do so calmly. He had to get rid of Kiwasee but he had no routine to fall back upon. This was not a motel room, there was no shower in which to perform his operations. It was a time to be clever, not methodical.

Luv tried to think, to be cool and rational, but his heart kept singing.

He had killed a man-a man! The most primal act of all. Murder. And in a fight, in hand-to-hand combat. He had challenged another man, bested him, killed him. Captain Luv had drawn blood all on his own, the mania had Only come in for the final rapture.

He crouched on the edge of the partially dug grave, two bodies by his side. Proud of himself.