D. MacHale - The Merchant of Death

“Denduron. I got it. What is it, some kind of password?”

“It’ll get us where we’re going.”

Okay, could this have been anymore mysterious? Why didn’t we just say “abracadabra” or something equally stupid? I was beginning to think this was all some kind of big old joke.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked nervously. “We’re going together, right?”

“That’s the plan, but if anything-”

“Stop right there!”

Uh-oh. We weren’t alone. We both stopped short and whipped around to see…a cop. Busted. For what I’m not sure. Trespassing, I guess.

“You boys want to tell me what you’re doing down here?” The cop looked confident-no, cocky. He was a clean-cut guy, with a perfect khaki-colored uniform, a big badge, and an even bigger gun. At least it was still in its holster. Even though we were busted, I was actually kind of relieved to see him. To be honest, Uncle Press was starting to freak me out. I didn’t think he’d gone off the deep end or anything, but this adventure was getting stranger by the second. Maybe now that a cop was here, he’d have to explain things a little better. I looked up to Uncle Press, expecting him to answer the cop. I didn’t like what I saw. Uncle Press was staring the cop down. I could sense the wheels turning in his head, calculating. But what? An escape? I hoped not. The gun on the cop’s hip looked nasty. There was a long moment of silence, like a standoff, and then somebodyelse joined the party.

“Can’t you leave me in peace?”

We all shot a look over to a dark corner where a pile of garbage sat. At least it looked like a pile of garbage, until it moved and I saw that it was a homeless dude. Correction, he had a home and we were standing in it. He was a big guy, and I had no idea how old he was because all I saw was a tangle of hair and rags. He didn’t smell so good either. He pulled himself to his feet and shuffled toward us. When he spoke, it was with a kind of slurred, crazy-speak.

“Peace! That’s all I want! Little peace, little quiet!” he jabbered.

Uncle Press squared off and stood firm, glancing quickly back and forth between the cop and the homeless guy. He was thinking fast, calculating.

“I think you two better come with me,” the cop said to us calmly. He wasn’t rattled by the new arrival.

I looked to Uncle Press. He didn’t move. The homeless guy got closer.

“Castle! This ismy castle! I want you all to-”

“What?” asked Uncle Press. “What do you want us to do?” I couldn’t believe he was trying to talk to this crazy guy. Then the platform started to rumble. Another subway train was on its way.

“I want you all to go away! Leave me alone!”

For some reason this made Uncle Press smile. Now I was totally confused. Whatever he was trying to calculate, he had his answer. He turned away from the homeless guy and faced the cop.

“You don’t know this territory, do you?” he said to the cop.

Huh? What was that supposed to mean? Behind us, the light from the subway train started to leak into the station. It would be here in a few seconds.

The homeless guy started waving his arms for emphasis. “You! I’m talkin’ to you! I want you out of my castle!” he yelled at the cop.

I was afraid the cop would pull his gun on the guy for his own protection. But he didn’t. He just stood there, staring at Uncle Press. They looked like two gunslingers, each waiting for the other to blink. Then he gave a little smile and said, “What was your first clue?”

“The uniform. City cops in this territory wear blue, not khaki,” answered Uncle Press.

This guy wasn’t a cop? Then who was he? The train horn blared and the screeching of metal wheels on track grew closer.

“I’m flattered though,” said Uncle Press calmly. “You came yourself.”

Uncle Press knew who this guy was! The homeless guy kept getting closer to the cop, or whoever he was.

“That’s it! That’s it! If you don’t git now I’m gonna-”

Suddenly the cop snapped a look to the homeless guy. It was a cold look that made me catch my breath. It stopped the homeless guy in his tracks. The cop stared at him with an intensity I’d never seen. The guy froze, and then began to shake like he had a fever.

The subway horn blared. The train was almost in the station.

The homeless guy looked as if he wanted to get away, but the cop’s laserlike gaze had him locked in place. Then, something happened that I won’t forget as long as I live, though I wish I could. The homeless guy opened his mouth and let out a horrifying, anguished cry. Then he ran. But he didn’t run away, he ran for the tracks! The train entered the station in a blur, and this guy was running toward it.

“No! Stop!” I shouted. But it didn’t matter. The homeless guy kept running…and jumped in front of the train!

I turned away at the last second, but that didn’t stop me from hearing it. It was a sickening thud, and his scream was suddenly cut off. The train didn’t even stop. I’ll bet no one onboard knew what had happened. But I did and I wanted to puke. I looked to Uncle Press, who had a pained look. He wiped it away in the next instant and looked back to the cop, who stood there with a smug little smile.

“That was beneath you, Saint Dane,” said Uncle Press through clenched teeth.

Saint Dane.That was the first time I heard the name. I had the grim feeling it wouldn’t be the last.

The cop, Saint Dane, gave an innocent little shrug and said, “Just wanted to give the boy a taste of what is in store for him.”

I didn’t like the sound of that.

And then Saint Dane began to transform. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, but it was real. His face, his clothes, everything about him changed. I watched in absolute, stupefied awe as he became a different person. His hair grew long and straight till it was over his shoulders. His body grew until he was nearly seven feet tall. His skin became ghostly pale white. His clothes changed from the khaki brown cop uniform, to an all-black suit that vaguely reminded me of the Far East. But none of that mattered as much as his eyes. His eyes grew icy blue and flashed with an evil intensity that made me understand the sheer force of will he possessed that could make someone jump to their death in front of a speeding train.

There was only one thing that didn’t change. He still had a gun. And I was surprised to discover, so did Uncle Press. With an expertise that made me feel as if he had done this sort of thing many times before, Uncle Press reached into his long coat and pulled out an automatic. Saint Dane went for his gun as well. I stood frozen. Ever hear the term “deer in the headlights”? That was me. I couldn’t move. The next thing I knew I was on my butt on the floor. Uncle Press had shoved me down behind a wooden bench. We were protected from Saint Dane, but for how long?

Uncle Press looked at me, and in a voice that was way more calm than the situation warranted, said one simple word, “Run.”

“But what about-”

“Run!” He then dove out from behind the protection of the bench and started shooting. I stayed there long enough to see Saint Dane dive behind a pillar for protection. Uncle Press was a pretty good shot because the tiles on the pillar splintered and shattered as they were slammed with his bullets. It was clear what he was doing. He was keeping Saint Dane occupied to give me time to run. But run where?

“Bobby, the door!”

Right! The door with the star and the abracadabra. Got it. I started to crawl away, when Uncle Press called to me, “Watch out for the quigs!”

Huh? What’s a quig? Bang! A tile shattered right near my head. Saint Dane was now shooting back, and I was the target! That’s all the encouragement I needed. I ran. Behind me the sound of the blasts from the gun battle rang through the empty station. It was deafening. I ran past a pillar andbang! A bullet pulverized another tile. Pieces of flying tile stung the back of my neck. That’s how close it was. I got to the far end of the platform and saw the stairs leading down to the tracks, just as Uncle Press described. I stopped for a second, thinking I’d have to be crazy to crawl down onto subway tracks. But the alternative was worse. It would be easier facing a subway train than that Saint Dane guy. So I took a quick breath and climbed down the stairs.