Chapter 11: KISS ME I’M BAD
After a well-behaved evening at the lanes, McBridle was en route to Tom’s house.
“It’s only early; and since we got our preliminary work up to date, I’m asking you to come back to my place for a nightcap, a gesture of friendship and to talk about the investigation,” she said in a dominant breath.
He glanced at the dashboard--the clock’s digital readout indicated: 10:45 p.m. “I know you want to go over details concerning the investigation, but I’m a bit tired; and it’s late. I don’t feel like a drink so just drop me anywhere here, and I’ll catch a cab. I’ll see you tomorrow morning if that’s all right with you.”
“It’s not all right. Don’t be a party-pooper; let your hair down and live a bit; keep yourself sane.”
“Well, yeah, sure, then, okay, since you put it that way,” he replied; but he was a little apprehensive about being alone with her, especially at this odd hour. “One drink over the case--then I’m heading out whether you like it or not. Got that?”
“That’s up to you,” she glanced over with a controlled smile.
He looked at her, suspiciously. He sensed she was up to no good.
McBridle drove into the driveway and parked in front of the big double-car garage. They entered the house. Tom got comfortable while she twisted a corkscrew into the neck of a wine bottle. He rested his weary bones on the couch. The cork popped, and he saw her standing in front of him holding two fancy stemmed glasses.
“Here,” she passed him a glass, “a thank you present from the chairman of NT Corp,” and filled the slender vessel to the top.
He tested the clear fermentation. “Sixty-four, tastes like a very expensive year.”
She collapsed next to him. “What a long, strenuous day. I’m glad that it has come to an end.”
“Maybe (he tasted the wine), tomorrow (and swirled the fluid in the glass) we’ll uncover information as to what’s going on at Carravecky’s and use this discovery to solve their unaccountable dilemma pertaining to our case.”
“Who knows; let’s just enjoy this moment of peace and quiet,” she replied, and rotated her stiff shoulders while complaining about muscle tension and asked him to massage the kink in her neck. He obeyed her intimate command and continued for several minutes. “That feels exquisite and heavenly gentle,” she moaned exotically. “It’s making my body melt deep inside,” she moaned again; this time harder.
Tom tried not to notice her growing sensualness.
“Squeeze your fingers deeper and further down; don’t stop, further, more.” She shifted her heated body and pointed her nipple mountains like she was holding back a sinless flood of sexual release. She heaved all the way forward before pulling her breasts back. “I have to go upstairs and do something,” she blurted out and cut him off.
“What?” he asked; “did I do something wrong?”
“Never mind, just keep your hands limbered up and ready,” she demanded and jumped up. “I’ll be back in a flash so stay parked.” She hurried out of the room.
A minute later, she returned all clean and fresh.
“You weren’t long,” he said, popping forward from his dead, lazy position.
She smiled teasingly, posed in a skimpy, semi see-through satin and lace nighty, obviously the only thing covering her beautiful bare skin from his sex-starved, wide-alert eyes. She slithered on the couch next to him.
Like a flint spark to a blaze, they immediately became fiery in each other’s arms. Their lips collided with heated passion, and they embraced each other as if engaged in hot combat or as if each love commander was jockeying for sexual advantage.
McBridle’s skin was silky and smooth. Her body was athletic and strong. She tore open the front of his buttoned up shirt. His torso was hard and defined; his abs rippled like washboard ribs. She mouthed his chest with x-rated assault. He was defenseless against her lovebite and rode out the gratifying attack.
He surrendered the best he could; his hands tangled in her hair, his fingers knotted together in the fine strands, and pulled her face close and kissed her juicy, plump lips, and savoured every morsel of her wet, tasteful mouth.
She moaned deliciously, demanding his masculine touch. “I want you; I need you; I must have every ounce of you deep inside me.” Her lips manoeuvred over his mouth, breathing lustful desire all over his face.
“It’s not right; it’s wrong; we can’t; we must fight the urge,” he resisted helplessly.
“It’s good, you need it; I need it; there’s no stopping it,” as she easily convinced him once her lingerie slipped off and her perfect body rubbed all over him.
Their superheated passion exploded like a symphony of Fourth of July fireworks, igniting their senses with a pleasureful overdose of brain-joy sex hormones.
Their eyes were glossy and their breath heavy. They were pressed together provocatively tight. They shifted--again and again--from one lubricious motion to another until they collapsed in heat, dripping with sweat, and panting like exhausted hound dogs unable to continue the chase.
They nested in each other’s arms and held each other as if neither wanted to retreat. Their sexual curiosity prevailed, an action, which had led them far beyond a working relationship. Now, they were officially secret lovers. They cooled their overheated joints and cuddled on the couch until McBridle guided Tom upstairs.
The hall nightlight was dim, but it illuminated the bedroom enough to reveal its vogue layout. It was tastefully furnished, a heavy-looking oak king-sized bed headed up against the back wall. Across the floor to the left, where an oval Persian rug lay, a small makeup table sat alone and tidy, except for an assortment of bottles and sprays and a dozen or so well-placed photos tucked in around its rectangular-shaped mirror. There was a tall armoire, which stood guard off to one side. In addition to that, everything in the room appeared to be in its fashionable placement.
He put her in bed and tucked her under the covers; she fell fast asleep.
“Tom, Tom, Tom, what kind of serious hoopla did I get myself into this time?” he whimpered while touching her soft hair and wondering how he allowed this accident to happen.
He got into bed but was unable to sleep so he snooped around the room. He went to the mirror and viewed the photos with whatever light there was; he paid special attention to the one with the two men, who were shaking hands. One of the men, Tom suspected, was McBridle’s father; and if he wasn’t mistaken, the other man looked like a younger Cecil Lankenbury. “I’d bet my little pay check that Lankenbury is her godfather or uncle or some rich relative,” he said reassuringly to himself. He stood idle just thinking about work and was about to leave the room when he glanced back at McBridle, who was motionless beneath the thick duvet; Exsorbo was standing near the bed.
“You are not dreaming my Nukyi friend,” Exsorbo said, and stepped forward.
“How is this possible? You can only exist in my sleep.”
He stopped in front of the human. “Remember that all is possible. This dimensional realm has been distorted because of your mortal existence here on planet earth.”
“So, all of this was never a dream?”
“It is your realty whether it is a dream or not; it is all your truth.”
“So, tell me my truth.”
“You already know.”
“Then, tell me why you’re here!” he insisted confidently.
Exsorbo paused; then offered an explanation. “I am here to warn you that there will be many evils bidding to test your skills. Ferronkus has been one.”
“Yeah, we met; he’s an unpleasant big, ugly fella.”
He placed his hand on Tom’s shoulder. “You must succeed over this force, or there will be no tomorrow. Ferronkus’s power is much greater than mine, and I cannot help you anymore.”
“Why is that?”
“My mission obligation has been completed.”
“You have to help me; I can’t succeed alone.”
“I have granted you the ab
ility which will enable you to develop into the skilled soldier that is trapped inside you. Find that power and defend yourself against Ferronkus. This evil representative will stop at nothing to devour you.” Exsorbo continued, “It has been thirty-four years since your inception upon this planet, just a grain of sand in time. You must succeed. If you fail, all will be lost to the jaws of evil.”
Tom was barely able to accept Exsorbo’s nail-biting explanation. “If I succeed,” he asked, “I will save the world; but if I fail, all good will be consumed?”
“The outcome is uncertain,” the dimensional traveller explained. “The forces of evil are unpredictable. I can only tell you that they are growing impatient and fuelled by a dark weapon created from the most powerful element ever to exist.”
“And what would this mystic element be?” Tom asked with a disbelieving tone.
“Those within the Voge galaxy--and those who seek it, called it Tucriney. It is the same element that flows through the veins of the Nukyi Salients and the Merless Knight Warriors. And this is why Ferronkus needs you. With such power, he will be able to harness all that is and build a new, dark eternity, one of pure living hell where all goodness would be enslaved. My friend, this is it; this will be the last time that I will see you until your journey begins.”
“This reality is screwing my head up; when will this journey begin?” Tom asked mystified.
Exsorbo shook his head with uncertainty. “Whether you like it or not, it is you who will decide that particular moment in your life, and I cannot change that.”
“So, then, the nine Nukyi trapped in Ferronkus’s world, can they be saved?” he asked.
“Save yourself,” Exsorbo replied, “their adventurous journeys are suspended. You must forget them. When your time arrives, you will be reunited with your destiny; but for now, keep yourself alive and well.” Exsorbo extended his hands and created a whirling vortex.
“What do you mean, keep myself alive? Am I going to die?”
“Use what you’ve learned and be true to who and what you are,” he said before he disappeared through the tunnel.
Tom saw a grey planet at the opposite side of the wormhole. Its hazy atmosphere was thick with electrical storm clouds and looked similar to planet earth, but then the vortex snapped shut.
The room grew silent. He stood partially naked. Exsorbo’s words had caused him to shiver. He wrapped himself in McBridle’s bathrobe. There was an immoral taste in his mouth, a taste that made him feel like he had smoked the Book of Revelations; and he needed a strong drink to extinguish his singed nerves. “What a joke,” he mumbled, “the last hope for saving the universe. I’d be lucky to be alive after all this nonsense regurgitated my soul.”
A few moments later, Tom entered the kitchen and reached for a half-empty beer that he had stored in the refrigerator earlier in the evening; then he planted himself on the couch. He sipped on the flat ale like it had to last him all night. It was quiet, and he closed his eyes. He felt alone knowing that he wouldn’t see Exsorbo for a long while. This confused him as he had become accustomed to following Exsorbo’s infinite wisdom. The empty bottle slipped from his limp hand and dropped onto the hardwood floor with a thud. The mind-crash had attacked. He shot open his eyes when he heard a low-pitched hum coming from the wall in front of him. It was the exact same spot where he had previously viewed the damage to the plaster. The blemish was growing larger and it emitted a sound similar to angry waves crashing over rocks.
Tom stood up to investigate the mysterious disturbance. It looked like a shield of fluid; an energy wake pulsated from it. “This can’t be. It’s just an illusion,” he said, fully convinced as to what he was witnessing and submersed his hand into the anomaly to prove that this was just a figment of his whacked imagination,; but his hand was lost and he was swallowed into the portal.
The undertow sucked Tom down to another level of reality, a world obviously controlled by Ferronkus. There, he saw a morning sunrise cast shadows upon an ancient city in a forgotten valley below.
The structures were pathetic, constructed of sandstone blocks that appeared to be in a state of decay, crumbling apart, collapsing under the pressures of time. Along the main road, shackled human livestock were herded up like feed cattle while nonhuman slaves diligently pulled carts weighted down with bales of hay. The lucky few loyal hard-lifers, the drunken bums who roamed the dowdy neighbourhood, were the ones who monitored the incoming foot traffic from the side sewers.
Tom warmed under the rising sun. The Nukyi stood there overlooking the misplaced world as if he ruled over it. He felt strong until he realized the persuader wasn’t clipped in the holster.
The voice of a man startled him. He spun around. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” he demanded interrogatively.
“Please, you must help me.” His hands were outstretched as if he was seeking forgiveness.
“Help you! Why? Who are you?”
The man was clothed in tattered duds covered with patches; a rope pulled tightly about the waist held his pants from falling down. “You don’t know me, but my name is Shane McBridle.”
“But you’re...”--he got a dry lump in his throat.
“Yes, I know--seven years now.”
“Then, what is it you want from me?”
“I have been granted one chance to redeem myself,” Shane admitted.
Tom stepped closer, his eyes studied the man. “What is this place?”
“Just follow me; you don’t need to know the details of this world,” Shane insisted.
“Why should I follow you? This could be a trap.”
“There’s no time for a song-and-dance explanation. Just, please,” he extended his hand, “follow me.”
“I don’t know where I am or where you expect me to go; but if you know what’s best for you,” his voice was stressed, “you’ll start explaining why I should follow a dead man?”
“It’s the devil’s daily trouble.”
“That doesn’t sound like a happy cake-eating party.”
“Listen, galactic muscleman, you’re right about that; and if you bring me to the party late, you’ll have some unhappy explaining to do so just follow and shut up.”
He tossed up his hands, “Okay, let’s go. If there’s going to be a party, I might as well be on time for the evildoer’s dinner.”
Shane led Tom down the trail to the bottom of the hill. They travelled by foot across a rough cobblestone lane that ran between the dilapidated elevations and headed toward the inner city, a heavily fortified battle zone.
“Hey,” Tom called, “slow down.”
“Hurry,” the dead man replied without a glance.
“McBridle, at least explain how you know of me and my powers.”
“Just hurry; I don’t have that much time,” Shane stressed rudely.
Tom grabbed the man’s arm and stopped him. “Tell me what the hell’s going on? You’re leading me around like a stupid blind dog, and I don’t have the patience for that kind of treatment today.”
“I can’t explain why or how,” Shane admitted with, a frightened look in his eyes. “I only know you’ve been sent to help me break free of this horrible madness.”
“To escape this world, and free yourself?”
“Yes... you’re my ticket out, and I can’t waste a second of this opportunity explaining what I don’t understand.”
A scruffy villager, who was as drunk as a skunk, approached the Nukyi. “I’m betting on you to lead us out of his shit-hole,” he slurred, his lips pressed against the rim of the booze crock. He mouthed a huge swig; then passed out on the road.
“Well, if we’re going, get us there,” as he stepped over the bum.
Shane rushed toward the appointed area--an angry amassment of grimy villagers watched from the upper balconies and shouted down obscenities.
“So, McBridle, how did you get yourself into such a pot of stink?” Tom asked between steps.
“A long story with a short version,”
Shane quickened his pace.
“Well, spit it out.”
“I was a young, stupid fool, who drank too much at the wrong time, drove with one eye open, ran over somebody’s kid, and didn’t pay the price for that life,” Shane replied remorsefully; “so, now, the payment is past due.”
“Well that explains everything in a nutshell,” the Nukyi concluded.
The inner city was corralled by a large stone wall. The entrance was guarded with a heavily fortified timbered door and would require at least twenty healthy servants to open and shut it. Inside, hundreds of menacing-looking characters stood waiting in the gallery and some fought amongst themselves for the best view of the fighting circle.
Tom and Shane approached the fighting arena. The closer they got to the ring, the more hostile the inhuman spectators behaved. And when the Nukyi stepped inside the circle, the prison-rats were anxious for the match to begin. Their deranged aggressions echoed off the walls of stone.
“Stay clear.” Tom grasped Shane’s arm, and pulled him away from the hard-lifers’ grubby paws. “It appears that they won’t enter the circle; so we’re safe for now.”
A perfectly timed syncopation of solid march steps caused the hell savages to turn and look toward the entrance. Ferronkus entered with an entourage of eight armoured gladiators. The cowardly servants bowed to the Evil One as he paraded into the area. The faithful ones proved their loyalty and worthiness by cheering victoriously for their master. With one flickering finger motion, Ferronkus silenced the doomed spectators; no man or beast would dare disturb Lord of Figure before he gave the signal for a challenge to begin.
“That Hell-dude is one ugly-looking beast,” Tom noted silently with a doomed breath.
Ferronkus carried a two-handed sword with evil pride. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, my young, foolish Nukyi.” He scratched the steel tip across the cobblestone to distract his opponent’s concentration.
Shane stood behind Tom for protection.
“What is it you want with him?” Tom shouted demandingly.
Ferronkus smiled, as if amused; then he walked closer with the two-handed sword held outstretched. “He is mine. I have laid claim to his flesh,” the devil said with a thunderous voice.
“He’s worthless,” Tom bellowed.
“As worthless as the others, but I must have my feast.” He smiled with a mean bite. He snapped his thick fingers, and two gladiators removed his golden crown. The sight of his noxious ivory horn caused the lifers to chant for the challenge to commence.
Lord of Figure and Tom Bronze stood in the middle of the fighting circle. The clone fighters stood guard outside the ring.
“If I win, what shall I gain?” Tom cried out while shielding Shane McBridle from the devil’s armoured reach.
“There has never been a winner. So you also belong to me.”
Tom had no weapon, but Ferronkus had two. “I’m defenceless. How can this match be equal?”
“That makes it all the more challenging for you,” Ferronkus roared; then he attacked with his sword drawn. His blade was much heavier than the blades used by the gladiators and many times more deadly.
Tom pushed Shane out of the way and avoided the evil master’s striking motion as Ferronkus backed away while wielding the special steel with all his evil skill. He attacked again with a fury that drew cheers from the gallery. With his jaws snapped shut and nostrils flared, Ferronkus snorted like a charging bull ready to devour the matador.
Tom could only move away from the evil guy’s deadly blade for so long, and it was becoming harder to protect Shane McBridle; he needed a weapon. He rolled across the stone surface to evade the stomping actions of Ferronkus’s enormous feet. The memories of the Nukyi’s fighting styles were coming back to him. “You call that a fight?” he sprang up and shouted. “You want me... not him.”
Ferronkus turned the blade away from McBridle as if calculating the larger and more-worthy victory.
“I’m still waiting; come get me, you big, fat-headed ass.”
They thundered into battle. The master of evils was equipped with a fighting arsenal from some hundred-thousand millenniums and he was no stranger to battle. Tom clenched his fists and adapted the Nu-Yak fighting style, the most elusive fighting method used by the Nukyi. Tom took every advantage using whatever skills he commanded. He leaped up and over Ferronkus. His motive was to subdue the giant in a lock-arm chokehold and strangle the horned beast. There was no margin for error, and time for him was running thin.
Ferronkus straightened up. He towered over Tom by a healthy foot and a half or more and outweighed him by a meaty two tons. The extra weight was exhausting the beast as he chased Tom from one area of the circle to the other.
“Stand still so I may carve you limb from limb,” the evil one ordered.
“If you can catch me, then you can eat me,” Tom shouted. He saw an opportunity to strike and leaped across the circle and flipped over backwards and landed on his feet. His attack caught Ferronkus off guard, and Tom was able to capture the power payly stick from hellbender’s belt.
Their bodies clashed together in furious battle. The steel of the longsword and the energy of the stick met with equal force. Tom jammed the power stick into Ferronkus’s forearm. It sent a surge of energy into the beast’s hand that almost caused the devil to fumble the blade.
The devil counterattacked and pounded his heavy foot into Tom’s mid-section, sending him across the circle and to the stone in pain. “It is my evil pleasure to flatten you like dimensional time,” the master demon laughed, as he attacked with his foot ready to crush the Nukyi’s chest; but Tom escaped and rolled to safety, at least for the moment.
The blade and stick collided. The sharpness of the steel had severed the weapon’s energy-release prong. The containment mechanism began to heat up and could possibly malfunction or fully discharge at any second.
Ferronkus pulled back and rested the tip of the blade on the ground. He seemed to be enjoying the match. “There is only one way out; that is by way of my fist.”
“Then try this Nukyi beating on for size, crab-breath,” Tom shouted and flipped backwards across the circle; he rammed the energy poker into Ferronkus’s spine.
Lord of Figure dropped to one knee but only for a blink of an evil eye. When he arose, he appeared twice as angry. His nostrils flared wider, his teeth jutted out sharper, and strands of muscle tightened like braided cords of steel in his neck. Ferronkus swung the two-handed sword with his last remaining might. The blade ripped across Tom’s arms and torso and sliced through the impervious protective body suit shielding. A small amount of blood was drawn from the two wounds before the suit miraculously healed itself.
Tom dropped to the ground from the force of Ferronkus’s attack but soon recovered.
“Weak, mortal creature, this will be your bloody end-life.” Ferronkus thrust the steel down at the Nukyi but missed the body target. The resonating blade sunk deep into the stone surface and fused there.
Tom rammed his foot on the flat of the steel and shattered the blade into a dozen pieces. The Nukyi’s unearthly strength shocked the evildoer.
“This is not possible; I am strong; you are weak.” Ferronkus held up the bladeless sword. “You will pay with your soul.”
The power stick rested on the stone floor and was going to blow, but Ferronkus didn’t seem to care; he was anxious to finish the Nukyi once and for all and claim his victory.
They charged toward each other and collided in a blaze of fist-to-bigger-fist combat.
Tom was no match for the strength of this bad-breath pest, but he had only one option: survive. He slipped free and pestered onto the bull’s back. “This is for you, round-neck,” the Nukyi growled out and grasped hold of Ferronkus’s horn and snapped the beast’s head back and locked his arms into an inescapable chokehold.
The evil master weakened as Tom ripped the bone from the beast’s skull. The giant collapsed to the ground. Black tar gushed from the gaping hole, and
Tom held the horn in his gooey grip as if it were a first-place finish bowling trophy.
The evildoer’s faithful servants were dead silent with disbelief. The clones waited for a command from their master.
Tom dropped ten pounds of ivory next to Ferronkus’s massive body; then he strode toward Shane. “It’s over; we’re getting out of here right now,” Tom indicated, pointing the way out.
“I don’t think so,” Shane said, and noticed that the demon had gotten to his feet, “the beast is still alive.”
“This dance is finished, and so are you,” Tom bellowed; and dove across the circle and grabbed the payly stick. It sounded like it was going to pop as he aimed it toward Ferronkus. Like a ball of cosmic fire, the energy exploded from the tip of the stick and struck the large timbers and stone blocks overhead that crashed down on the beast.
And when the dust settled, Tom cautiously inspected the pile of rubble for any sign of abnormal life. The prisoners were motionless until they saw Ferronkus reform from a black gel to a solid body.
“The battle is not over yet, young Nukyi,” Ferronkus insisted as he spit a mouthful of coal tar. The gladiators motioned to attack, but the master demon ordered them back. He grabbed a sword from one of the clones, but he was too weak to continue. “Tomorrow, there shall be a new day--a new battle, my young Nukyi,” Lord of Figure spewed, “then it will be a different conclusion.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Tom replied, “anytime, anywhere.”
Ferronkus tossed the blade back to the battle clone, “I’m sure you will be, foolish Nukyi,” then reached down to the ground and retrieved the hilt. “You are apparently more elusive than I’ve anticipated. Exsorbo has trained you well, but you have only prolonged your demise. Soon you will be painfully reunited with your fellow Nukyi; and then you won’t be so brave,” as he used the ultimate command of his evil mind--the gladiators melted into him just before he converted into an energy funnel and disappeared into the sky.
“It’s over,” Tom said convincingly. “You’re free to vacate this god-ugly, death-filled world.”
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Shane said, and motioned to hug him.
Tom repelled him with an angry expression, “Just stay out of trouble and don’t ever bother me again,” he said with a serious tone.
“That’s a deal. I owe you and, I won’t forget what you’ve done for me.”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard that story before; don’t make promises a rat like you can’t keep,” Tom said, and escorted Shane from the circle. The prisoners cleared a path that led to the large timbered doors. They exited and travelled by cart down the cobblestone lane to the edge of the city where the tree line formed an impassable wall.
“Go, get, before I change my mind and throw you back to the wolves,” Tom commanded.
“My daughter--tell her that I love her.”
“Yeah, I’m sure she knows,” Tom said without feeling.
“Please.”
“Whatever; just get going and don’t come back,” he said, and watched Shane McBridle disappear into the thicket.