“Hep, they’re trying to figure out where you guys live, and they’re going to try and get both of you,” Pan said. He was pretty beat up, and the combination of new bruises over old bruises and cuts wasn’t pretty. His hand shook as he reached for his cup of coffee.
“These guys tried to get me to tell them where you lived, as well as where a bunch of other gods are now,” Pan said. “I guess they didn’t believe me when I told them I didn’t know.”
“I wouldn’t believe you if you told me you did know,” Scroat said, and laughed.
“Who the hell are these people?” Hep asked Pan.
“I don’t know. They’re either a cult or an army. They really don’t seem bright enough to be an army. The guy who seems to be in charge, the suit who told his goons to beat me up, is named Tim,” Pan said.
Hep got up from the table and grabbed a pocket sized black notebook near the phone. He opened it, flipped a couple pages, grabbed the phone and started dialing.
“Who are you calling?” Dan asked.
Hep hung up the phone and started dialing another number
“Any one I can get on the phone. There’s a guy out there with a dumb but loyal army trying to find gods and kill them,” Hep said. He turned away and said into the phone, “Bast? Hi, it’s Hephaestus…”
Hep spent the next several hours on the phone, coaxing and cajoling the other gods he knew into meeting with him, Scroat and Pan. After getting off the phone with Zethes, he went into the living room where Scroat and the others were hanging out.
“Ok, Scroat and Pan, we’re going to Las Vegas to meet some friends, Hep said.
“Yes!” Scroat said.
Hep continued, “Dan and Sarah, you guys are going to ditch the van someplace out of the way and find a hotel somewhere around here. Keep your heads down. Take anything you don’t want Tim and his buddies to swipe; I doubt it’s going to be safe here for much longer.”
Dan and Sarah didn’t have much, since Hep had brought them to his house with only the clothes they were already wearing. Pan was similarly unburdened by possessions. Scroat went to his bedroom and came back out stuffing what everyone else hoped was a clean pair of underwear in his pocket.
“Ready,” Scroat said.
They all went out to the garage while Hep locked up the house. Scroat made a big show of rolling his bike out of the garage, checking the air in his tires and otherwise getting ready for the trip. Hep came out to the garage a couple minutes later.
“You two,” Hep said to Dan and Sarah, “remember that one or two of the goons probably remember what you look like. Don’t draw attention to yourselves.”
Hep rolled his trike out of the garage and started the motor. Once it was running without the choke, he closed the garage door and locked it. He got on the trike and looked at Pan.
“Well? Get on,” Hep said.
Hep and Scroat pulled away, leaving Dan and Sarah standing by the van in Hep’s driveway. They watched the tail lights on the bikes quickly fade away.
Dan looked at Sarah and said “’let’s ask him for something,’ Chris says to me. Remind me to punch him again the next time I see him. Do you want to drive, or shall I?”
“I’ll drive,” Sarah said.
***
Hep, Scroat and Pan rode through the night to Las Vegas. Hep led them to a park reserve to the west of the city.
As Hep shut down his trike and dismounted, Scroat pulled up next to him and asked, “What the hell are we doing out here? There’s no gambling or whorehouses out here in the middle of a fucking park! Damn it Hep, you got my hopes all up.”
Hep ignored him, and they hiked to the meeting place that had been arranged. The area was mostly dirt, with pointy plants and plenty of rocks, but not much else. Several of the other gods had already arrived. Most of the gods acknowledged the trio, but didn’t move to greet them. Thor, however, strode over to Hep and embraced him.
“It’s been too long! Come, I brought food. You must eat with me.” He led them back to a campfire where he was roasting some meat. Hep, Scroat and Pan hadn’t eaten anything since the victory donuts and were glad to join Thor for breakfast. Thor hacked huge, juicy slabs off of the roast and gave a chunk to each of them, along with a large hunk of bread.
The three ate hungrily, taking huge bites of meat and bread.
“This is fucking awesome! What is it?” Scroat asked.
“It’s goat. I’m glad you like it,” Thor replied.
Pan looked rather ill and pushed his plate away. Scroat, however, continued eating with a new enthusiasm.
“Is everything ok?” Thor asked Pan.
“Oh, yes, I ate too quickly. Thank you so much for a wonderful meal,” Pan said. He was beginning to look very green. “Excuse me a minute.”
Pan hurried away. He came back a few minutes later looking less ill, but still rather worried.
Soon all the gods had arrived. Shortly after the last god arrived, one of them stood and addressed Hep.
“Hep, why have you gathered us here?” asked Elegua, dressed in red jeans and a black t-shirt.
Hep stood and told them about finding Bacchus, about the group who had attacked them and kidnapped Pan, and that whoever these people were, they had found a way to kill gods.
“I’ve gathered you here to spread the word and decide how we should proceed,” Hep concluded.
A god wearing snakeskin boots said, “These men are arrogant, like all the others. We have nothing to fear from them, and they will soon destroy themselves, as the arrogant always do. I shall do nothing.”
There were several murmurs of agreement.
“I say we hunt them down and kill them all, then their families, then their friends, then anyone that looks at us funny while we’re at it” said Ares.
There were a couple of coughs, and silence when Ares finished speaking.
“Aw, fuck you guys,” he said.
Thor stood and said, “if it is necessary to fight, then I shall stand with you.” Several others made noises of agreement, while others remained silent and crossed their arms.
“There is nothing more I can ask for,” Hep said. The gods stood and prepared to leave, when they heard motors approaching. Several white vans appeared in a matter of seconds. The vans skidded to a halt, and a small army of enthusiastic men wearing track suits jumped out of the side and rear doors of the vans. They charged at the stunned group of gods.
Four of them ran at Thor, who brushed them off as if they were no more than flies. Hep had barely turned around when Ares flew at the men with a look of insane glee. He decapitated one of the men and moved on to another. The man standing closest to the scene caught the first man’s head out of instinct. It blinked at him. He dropped the head in horror and ran away.
The other gods joined in the fight, and soon the few track suited thugs who were still standing ran back to the vans and fled.
“Who the hell are these people?” one of the gods asked.
Pan crouched down and pulled an ID badge off of one of the bodies.
“The New Paradigm, according to this,” he said.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Scroat asked.
“I don’t fucking know. Corporate motivational training gone awry?” Pan answered.
They then heard a strange thumping noise behind them, and turned to see what the source was.
Ares was jumping from corpse to corpse, pausing to jump up and down a few extra times now and then. He looked up briefly at them.
“What?” Ares asked, then resumed what he was doing.
Scroat muttered to Hep, “That guy likes his job way too much.”
Hep nodded in shocked agreement.
The gods dispersed then, except for Ares who was apparently playing soccer now.
“Hey! I need a goalie!” he yelled after them as they departed.
Hep, Scroat and Pan stopped at a motel way, way off the strip in Vegas to crash for a while before making the trip back to Arizona. The room had obviously last been decorated in the 1970’s, and they were pretty sure the carpet was original. It crunched under their feet as they walked into the room. The three decided it would be best to keep their shoes on.
Hep and Scroat each crashed in one of the twin beds, while Pan collapsed on to the couch.
“I’ll see you fuckers tomorrow,” Scroat said. Within seconds he was snoring loudly.
“Not if we see you first,” Pan said. He turned over, exclaimed, “that’s disgusting!” into the back of the couch and turned back over.
Hep had just about fallen asleep when he heard a loud ‘POP’ in the room. He looked up to see a sheep that was as startled as he was. On its side was spray painted “Sarah missing with van. Help!”
“Fuck,” Hep said before he fell into a deep sleep.
In his dream, Hep played basketball one on one with Ares. He’d gotten the ball away from Ares only to discover that it was a bloody head.
“I’m worried you might be a workaholic, Ares,” Hep said, looking at the head.
“You know who’s got two bad legs and can kiss my sweaty ass?” Ares replied, then snatched the ball back from Hep.
1 comment:
Ares is great.
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