The Crow: Santa Muerte

by VHdez

Summary:

An old evil found its way to northern Mexico and began a reign of bloody terror. Fourteen years after Eric Draven returned from the land of the dead, another soul was afflicted with such a terrible sadness that it could not rest. A crow brought it back to put the wrong things right. Ximena Mendes was not the first. She will not be the last.

This was originally a screenplay that was lost years ago. Since I do not own the intellectual property that the lore and some characters are based on, this is a free release falling under fan fiction.

Chapter 1: Safest Place

Father Alejandro Suarez wasn’t sure he wanted to make this visit. Even though he was visiting a friend, this was going to be a somber, one sided reunion. He took a breath and opened the door to the Welcome Center and walked in, stopping just inside to look around. It’s been a while since he had been here. Father Suarez wondered how many ghosts walked around here with unfinished business. He’d been to Arlington National Cemetery many years before to visit other friends he’d lost a lifetime ago. It brought back memories of good and bad times.

“Can I help you, Father?” asked the man at the information desk.

Father Suarez walked up to the desk.

“Us yes. I’m here to visit a grave. I had a map with the location, but I think I lost it,” said the priest.

“Oh, that’s not a problem. If you have the name, I can pull that up for you and mark it on a new map,” said the man.

As Alejandro was about to say the name of his friend, a tapping sound began. Both men looked to see a crow, standing on the ground just outside the door the priest had walked through. It was tapping at the glass and seemingly paused between taps to look inside the building.

“Weird. Almost looks like it wants to come in or something,” said the man.

Alejandro sighed, remembering something.

“You know, legends say, that when we die, the blackbird caries our souls into the afterlife. But not all souls stay at rest. Sometimes, something so tragic and painful happens, a crow carries the restless soul back. Sometimes a soul gets to make right what went wrong,” said the priest.

“Father?” asked the man at the desk, confused.

“Sorry... It’s something a friend told me once. Anyway, I just remembered where the grave is,” said Father Suarez.

“Do you still need a map?” asked the man.

“Oh, no. I’ll be fine,” said Alejandro.

“Okay. Well, if you need any assistance you can come back here. There’s also other staff on the grounds that can help,” said the man.

“Thanks,” said the priest as he walked out of the building.

When he stepped outside he heard cawing. The crow was sitting on a branch, string at him. It cawed and then flew off over the gardens of stone.

“Lead the way,” said Father Suarez.

Chapter 2: Death Remains the Same

Nearly a year earlier, along the U.S. border with Mexico, the morning was somewhat warmer than it had been the last few days. October hadn’t gotten too cold and this day wasn’t even sweater weather. Many hoped it would be a nice Halloween. Not too cold, not too warm. Not rainy like it had been lately. Forecasts said the weather would clear by the 31st. Today it was overcast and looked like the sky might open up.

“Maybe it won’t rain today?” asked Jonah Olivares.

He looked over at his fiancé with a cheesy smile.

“You just jinxed the whole day. Thanks for that,” said Ximena Mendes.

She wanted to be mad at him for ensuring that the day was most definitely going wet. Historically, if he said something, more often than not the opposite just happened. It was a nitpick kind of thing but it would get on Ximena’s nerves. He knew it annoyed her but like to do it anyway. Fortunately for Jonah, she loved the guy and found it very difficult to stay mad at him. Ximena leaned her head back, and rubbed her expanded belly. She was now eight months pregnant. Her back was sore and it was really early in the day to be stuck in traffic. She wondered if maybe she could catch a nap while the line to cross the border was at a near standstill. Sleep was in short supply lately having to deal with the side effects of having a human growing inside her. Ximena thought that maybe dealing with the back pain wouldn't be so hard to deal with if she didn’t have to keep getting up multiple times a night because her spawn was kicking her bladder. She closed her eyes, leaned her seat back, and hoped for a little rest.

Jonah and Ximena were immigration lawyers. The small firm they worked for helped people navigate the long and often maddening process of becoming legal residents and citizens of the United States. This work also included helping undocumented people find a legal path to stay in the country. Both were talented lawyers. Jonah had been working at their firm for a couple of years before Ximena showed up and made an instant impression on him. She was very smart, very headstrong, and very dedicated. He became very smitten. It took her a little longer to warm up to him but she ended up falling pretty hard after she did. Not long after officially becoming a couple they found themselves facing parenthood much earlier than either had planned. Both were shocked by not being scared. This was not the plan but it felt right.

The universe can alter the course of your life with unexpected blessings. It can also alter it with tragedy. The case that brought them here involved a woman who claimed she escaped from a group that was sacrificing women in dark rituals. After some digging
Jonah got a tip about someone in Mexico who might know more information. Corroborating the information would help them make a good asylum case for their client. Jonah wanted to go alone but Ximena insisted on coming along. She had never been to Mexico and felt she needed to see life on the other side. This might also be her last chance to travel for a while. The discomfort of her pregnant state was making her wonder if this was not such a good idea. Then car horns ruined her plan for a nap.

“Ugh,” she said aloud.

Ximena decided to reacquaint herself with the case file since sleep was not an option.

“So... is this the guy we are going to see?” asked Ximena.

She held up a photo of an older man. Jonah looked over.

“That's him. He's supposed to have some information on the disappearances,” Jonah replied.

“Does he really?” she asked, looking skeptical.

Before they took on their client, rumors began spreading of people, mostly women, disappearing near the border on the Mexican side. So far, they’d run down many leads that went nowhere.

“Talking to us could get him killed. That’s why I’m inclined to give him a chance. Which is also why I'd rather you stay home,” said Jonah.

“Like that was going to happen,” she said.

“Yeah, well I know better than get in your way when you set your mind to something,” he replied.

“I knew there was reason I keep you around. I mean, that and the obvious,” she said, pointing to the gestating offspring inside of her.

“There are easier ways to keep a guy in your life,” he replied, flashing a big cheesy smile.

She smiled, crumpled a blank piece of notebook paper and threw it at his face.

“Anyway... Is he really a witch doctor?” Ximena asked.

“That is what the locals say. Although the proper term is curandero,” said Jonah, over enunciating the Spanish word.

“I know what a curandero is, jack ass. Just because I don't speak Spanish very well doesn't mean you can mess with me about it,” she said.

He liked messing with her about it. It wasn’t a hugely sore spot for her, but he was the only one that she allowed to get away with this teasing. Growing up, her parents didn’t speak Spanish around the house. This was due to persecution for speaking Spanish when they were growing up. She wasn’t very interested in learning when she was a child and came to regret it as an adult. Jonah, of course, was fluent.

“You know I love you, X,” he said.

“Whatever,” she said, feigning annoyance.

She hated to admit that she kind of liked it when he called her X. He was the only one who ever did that and she found it endearing. She continued to go over the case file with Jonah while there wasn’t much to do. Once they crossed the border, it was an hour of driving to get to the town of Rio Blanca. Ximena looked out to the people and buildings as they passed though. She had seen pictures of the town, but real life seemed more faded and depressed, like the life and color was being drained from everything. Ximena knew in her heart that she would probably try to “illegally” come to America too if the location of her birth had been different and this dire. Jonah yawned and rubbed his eyes. Ximena turned her head just in time to see a dog crossing the street in front of their truck.

“Jonah, look out!” she shouted.

Jonah slammed on the brakes, stopping short of hitting the dog. The dog stopped in front of them to lick itself and then continued walking along as if nothing happened. A car stopped behind them and started honking. Jonah waved his hand drove on.

“I'd yell at you for freaking me out like that over a dog, but you’re just going to tell me it serves you right for not watching the road, right?” he asked.

Her face said it all, but she still said it.

“Pretty much yeah. And you did almost kill it,” said Ximena.

“If was between the dog and the car behind us that could cause a fatal crash?” he asked.

“You could use your awesome driving skills to save everyone,” she replied.

Jonah risked a look at Ximena, more annoyed at himself for asking a question he knew the answer to, than he was for getting an answer he should have expected. He wanted to argue, but instead took a breath and settled on...

“Have I told you how much I love you today?” he asked.

Ximena smiled, enjoying the victory.

“Yeah. But I still like hearing it. Now eyes back on the road,” she said.

He paid more attention to his driving. At a stop sign, Jonah paused for a moment.

“Was it right or left?” he asked.

No cars were behind them so Ximena opened the case file again.

“Uh, left,” she said.

“Got it,” he replied.

As they were pulling away, she noticed a priest and a nun walking on the sidewalk. He was an older man, but looked strong for his age. He appeared to have a kind nature and the look of a hard life. The nun looked equally strong. She was younger, probably in her mid to late twenties. She stuck out with her light skin and blue eyes. Her face was stern and her stance was confident. The priest noticed Ximena looking his way so nodded his head and made the sign of the cross in the air. Ximena waved.

“Who were you waving at?” Jonah asked.

“Local priest I guess. He did the thing,” said Ximena, doing the sign of the cross in the air. “I guess this little trip has God's blessing.”

“That was probably Father Suarez. We should probably stop by his church on the way back,” said Jonah.

“Oh, I get it. This was an elaborate plan to make an honest woman out of me,” she said.

“A bit late for that,” he replied.

“Shut up,” said Ximena.

“Well, we got a blessing so what could possibly go wrong?” Jonah asked,

She slapped him on the arm.

“Why do you say shit like that? Now something bad is going to happen,” said Ximena, actually a little annoyed this time.

“Ow,” he replied.

The house sat isolated in scrubland a little ways out of town. It was mildly rundown but livable. There was no other car or truck in sight. Jonah parked the truck on the patch of dirt that was in front of the house. They were both thankful for no mud and each
prayed silently that they could leave before any rain started.

“Is this it?” she asked, looking concerned.

“This is it. Looks like we got here first,” said Jonah.

“First?” asked Ximena.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot. Someone else was coming. A Ranger,” he said.

“A Texas Ranger? Isn’t this a little out of the jurisdiction?” she asked.

“Yeah. The guy gets around. He’s kind of a wild card. You’ll like him,” he replied.

“If you say so,” she said.

“Let’s see if the old man is home,” he said.

They got out of the truck and walked to the home. After deciding that the old wooden porch wasn’t a safety hazard, they both carefully took the step up and Jonah knocked on the front door. Inside the home, various crosses and images of the Virgin Mary were on the walls. The old man stood over an altar, praying. His clothes looked as worn as his face. He stared down at an old plate with chicken bones on it. The praying stopped as a look of fear covered his face. Then he was distracted by someone calling his name.

“Rogelio!” Jonah called out.

There was silence from inside.

“Maybe he’s not home?” asked Ximena.

Jonah shrugged and knocked again.

“Rogelio!” he called out.

“Ya voy,” said the old man, but they didn’t her him.

Jonah knocked again.

“Rogelio!” he called.

Rogelio made his way to the door slowly. He had a slight limp and used a cane to get around.

“Ya voy!” he shouted.

“Pendejo, gringo,” he said under his breath.

Through the dusty window Rogelio could see the couple. He assumed Jonah was white because he kind of did look that way. The old man opened the door to the smiling couple.

“Ugh,” said Rogelio with a frown.

“Hola, como estas?” said Jonah.

The old man rolled his eyes.

“Right. You’re the kind of gringo que habla Español,” said Rogelio.

“I’m not white,” said Jonah, taken aback.

Rogelio turned around and walked back into his house.

“Come in I guess,” he said to the couple.

“Your way with people is astounding,” said Ximena, sarcastically.

Jonah glared at Ximena. She smiled. When they were all inside, Rogelio turned to get a better look at his guests. Once seeing Ximena’s face, he looked startled and took a step back.

“Is he okay?” asked Ximena.

“I don't know. Rogelio, estás bien?” asked Jonah.

Rogelio stepped forward and took Ximena’s hand.

“The blackbird will be with you,” said Rogelio.

Outside, three dirty SUVs skidded to a halt in front of the home.

“Rogelio? What's going on?” Jonah asked.

Rogelio looked into Ximena’s eyes intensely and acted as if Jonah wasn't there.

“Okay. He’s freaking me out,” said Ximena.

“The blackbird will be with you,” he said again.

“Viejo!” shouted someone from outside.

Rogelio looked at the front door.

“They’re here,” he said.

“Jonah, what the hell is going on?” asked Ximena, looking worried.

“Dammed if I know. Stay with him, I'll see who’s outside,” said Jonah.

Jonah walked to the door and opened it. Three men stood under the porch.

“Puedo ayudarte?” Jonah asked.

Without a word the man in the middle pulled a gun and shoot Jonah through the screen door. He continued firing as Jonah fell. All three pushed through the screen door and rushed to Ximena and Rogelio. One of them struck Ximena’s head with the butt of a rifle and she blacked out. Ximena began to slowly wake to the sound of voices that at first sounded far away.

“El viejo was looking at bones,” said a man’s voice.

“Show me,” said a woman’s voice.

The voice, even in only two words, sounded like it had a commanding elegance to it. Ximena's opened her eyes but her vision was blurry. She was able to make out long streaks of blood on the floor leading to the back of the house. A slow surge of adrenaline helped her vision to clear. Rogelio was nowhere to be seen and Jonah was on the floor near the front door. She couldn’t tell if he was alive. She wanted to call out to him but her mouth wouldn’t respond. Her head hurt and she felt dizzy. She blinked her eyes and tried to focus. She saw the woman who belonged to the voice. Her face was turned away, but Ximena could see strands of shiny dark brown hair peeking out of the hood of a deathly black cloak that was somehow spotlessly clean. It was as if dust was afraid to land on it. The woman was staring down at Rogelio's plate of bones.

“Very interesting,” spoke the cloaked woman with a cool aristocratic tone.

There was a very light accent to her voice. It wasn’t Mexican or any kind of Latin. Ximena could not place it but it sounded eastern European. Without taking her eyes off the bones, the woman pointed at Ximena.

“Hold her down,” said the woman.

Ximena was still too disoriented to comprehend the danger she was in. Her mind was still too focused on the voice. Ximena’s head cleared more when she felt rough hands pin her down to the floor. Suddenly aware of the threat, she screamed. Her head still hurt and the dizziness had not yet subsided, but she had to fight. The woman in black stepped over her and sat on Ximena's legs. The hood still obscured the upper half of the woman’s face. Ximena could see the tanned skin on her cheeks and a self-satisfied evil smile. Then she felt a cold hand touch her belly and saw a knife in the woman’s other hand. Ximena felt herself go cold and began screaming when the blade sliced through her skin. She jerked her hands and feet violently and nearly broke free.

“Silence her,” the woman said calmly.

A black gloved hand covered Ximena’s mouth. Someone was kneeling by her head. Before she could look up to see who was there, she saw another gloved hand hover over her with a large knife. Before Ximena could scream again, there was a flash of motion as the knife plunged into her chest. Ximena felt a cold sharp pain shoot through her and heard the thump of the knife hitting the wooden floor. She became strangely aware that her heart was no longer beating. Then her consciousness faded away.

Chapter 3: Took Their Share

The clouds were clearing. Sunlight currently ruled the sky but it had begun its daily retreat. The unmarked sedan made its way down the dusty trail to Rogelio’s old dusty home. It veered a little off the trail to let an ambulance pass by. Mexican Police trucks and another ambulance sat silent and still in front of the old home. Jonah’s truck was now missing. The remaining ambulance should have been idling at least, but with no one left to save, there was no need to waste the fuel. The sedan came to a stop among the other trucks when paramedics were wheeling out a lifeless body covered by a sheet.

Texas Ranger Roy Paulson stepped out of the car and waited for the body to pass before walking into the house. The uneven ground jostled the gurney and a woman’s hand slipped out from the side. The sun faded wood on the mostly covered front porch creaked under his boots. He’d look like the classic image of a Ranger even without a badge being displayed. The badge was currently in his pocket and his gun was back in the car. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

Mexican Federal Agent Juan Diego Elizondo was processing the scene when Paulson walked into the house. Unlike the other police on the scene, he wore plain cloths and his badge hung from a chain around his neck. He didn’t look as hard edged as the Ranger, but he was no less competent at his job. His face showed the frustration of always being one step behind the cartels in a growing war zone.

“Como estas, JD?” said Paulson.

He spoke Spanish fairly well, albeit with an American accent. Agent Elizondo turned around and smiled when he saw the face of his old friend. They’d crossed paths many times in the past, often unofficially helping each other on tough cases. Mutual respect had turned into friendship.

“Roy? The hell are you doing here?” asked Elizondo, stretching out his hand for a shake.

His English was better than Paulson’s Spanish. Paulson gladly shook the hand of his longtime friend.

“Business. I was supposed to have a meeting... here,” he said, looking around the living room.

Elizondo’s smile faded. Friends though they were, Paulson had a habit of snooping around without telling anyone.

“Meeting? Hijo de la… Do I want to know?” he asked.

Paulson shrugged.

“Probably not,” replied the Ranger.

“Roy. You are going to get yourself in a lot of trouble one of these days,” said Elizondo.

The Federale shook his head and looked down at the blood on the floor. Against his better judgment Elizondo decided to not question his friend’s legal authority to be here. Again.

“Fortunately you were late for the party or we might have been scraping you off the floor too,” said Elizondo.

“Yeah, lucky,” said Paulson, looking somber. “A lawyer was supposed to be here too. His name is Jonah Olivares.”

Elizondo rubbed his chin as a uniformed officer squeezed by.

“He was here. You missed him in the ambulance heading out. He’s lucky to be alive,” said Elizondo.

Paulson nodded in agreement on the minor blessing.

“Was that a woman’s body being carried out?” asked Paulson.

“It was. Looks like she was pregnant too,” replied Elizondo.

“Was?” asked the Ranger.

Elizondo moved his open hand over his stomach in a cutting motion and then waved it away.

“Baby gone?” asked Paulson

“Yup,” was the reply.

Paulson was shaking his head when another uniformed officer walked up to Elizondo and whispered something into his ear. Elizondo whispered something back and the officer waked off.

“Was she local?” asked Paulson.

“I don’t think so. Her cloths were too new,” said Elizondo.

“Did she have any ID?” Paulson asked.

“Nope. It was probably taken. We only found Jonah’s wallet and it was completely cleaned out except for his ID,” said Elizondo.

“Huh. She may be Jonah’s fiancé. She was also lawyer. And she was pregnant,” said Paulson.

Juan took a notebook out of his pocket and began writing.

“What was her name?” he asked.

“Ximena Mendes,” replied Paulson.

“U.S. citizen?” asked Elizondo.

“Yeah. She’d have a Texas license too. If you find it,” said Paulson.

Elizondo wrote the name in his notebook along with a few notes and put it back in his pocket.

“I’ll get the fingerprints sent to your office ASAP. Maybe we’ll get lucky and get a hit on her ID being used by someone. Maybe,” he said.

“Thanks, JD,” said Paulson.

The Ranger looked down at the blood stained floor. A policeman was taking pictures of the drying blood. There was a lot of it. Paulson looked back up at his friend.

“Did you find the old man?” asked Paulson.

Juan motioned to the bloody streaks on the floor leading to another room.

“What’s left of him. We’re waiting on another ambulance so we can take away the leftovers,” he replied.

“Christ. What did they do to him?” asked Paulson.

“Took his skull and spine,” replied Elizondo.

The Ranger sighed in frustration.

“Great. We startin’ to get the satanic crap going again?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” replied Elizondo, sounding equally frustrated. “We’ve had that Santa Muerte stuff for a while now, but nothing like this since that University of Texas kid back in 89',”

Another policeman walked by.

“Perdoname,” he said to Paulson and Elizondo.

“You think this is gonna be like Matamoros all over again?” Paulson asked.

“Dios espero que no,” replied Elizondo. “The cartels are bad enough without involving all that Satanic black magic shit.”

“Satan is always involved, my friend,” said Paulson

Elizondo nodded.

“Seems so. So is there anything I should know about this meeting?” he asked the Ranger.

Roy felt some guilt for not including his old friend on the meeting. Maybe Elizondo already knew. Maybe not. But if this brutality was connected to a new group making moves, Paulson decided the Federales should be informed.

“The old man was supposed to tell me something about the leader of the new cartel in charge of the area. Supposed to be a woman.” he said.

“Yeah, I've heard something similar,” replied the Federale.

Paulson had another piece of information. Things were getting bad and he needed all the help he could get.

“JD, I got a partial name. Could be fake. Maybe you can confirm, maybe not. Maybe it will help point you in the right direction,” said Paulson.

“You been holding out on me Roy?” asked Elizondo.

Paulson didn’t want to say that he didn’t trust information with Mexican law enforcement. They were not all corrupt, but you could never tell when and where a well-placed cartel source could hear something. He knew he could trust his friend at least. Paulson pulled out his own notebook and wrote a name, and passed it to Elizondo.

“Could just be an alias,” said Paulson.

Elizondo looked at the name and put the paper in his pocket. The Federale looked suddenly nervous. Paulson could tell that his friend had heard the name. To Paulson, this meant that things were indeed getting very bad here.

“Did this come from the old man?” asked Elizondo.

“It did. He didn’t want to tell me any more than that over the phone,” said Paulson.

“Do you know if the lawyers knew anything else?” asked Elizondo.

“Not that I know of,” said Paulson.

Elizondo nodded and motioned to Paulson to follow him into what looked like a spare bedroom. Elizondo closed the door and whispered.

“The name I’ve heard is Señora Ecsed. I don’t know if it’s her real name but that is all I know,” he said.

“Ecsed doesn’t sound Spanish,” said Paulson.

Elizondo shrugged.

“Apparently she had eyes and ears everywhere. Be careful Roy,” said Elizondo.

Ranger Paulson decided to leave before he got his friend further into a bad situation. They walked back into the living room.

“Hopefully we can get a handle on whatever this is before things get out of hand. I have to head back. Think you can be free to meet up in a few days?” asked Paulson.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” said Elizondo.

The Ranger turned around and walked to the front door. He paused before he stepped out the door.

“Hey JD?” asked Paulson.

“Yeah?” replied Elizondo.

“You be careful too,” said Paulson.

Further out, miles into the scrubland, near the foot of a mountain, sat an old Spanish mission. It was built in a bad location at the advice of a disgraced priest who died during an exorcism he was the subject of. Many believed the place to be evil and haunted. It sat abandoned since not long after its completion. It was now home to the leader of the Rio Blanca Cartel. The freshly dug basement space was finished out to resemble the rest of the old mission. The bodies of those who built this expansion lay hidden behind the stone walls.

A simple folding chair sat in the middle of the room, facing a wooden throne. A woman in her twenties was sitting on the chair with her legs tied to it and her hands tied to her sides. Sitting on the woman’s lap, straddling her, was the owner of the throne and leader of the cartel. A bloody knife lay on the floor. Señora Ecsed’s mouth was covering the woman’s neck. Blood escaped her lips and stained the cloths of the woman tied to the chair. She made noises like a starving person eating the finest meal she’d ever served.

Watching over was Guadalupe Ojeda, her chief lieutenant. Ojo, as he was known, smiled as he watched his master feed. His nickname came from having informants seemingly everywhere so people believed he always had an eye on you. He was very skilled at finding information. He was arrogant and went nowhere without a cigar in hand. He was in awe of Señora Ecsed and revered her. He believed her to be the embodiment of Nuestra Señora de la Santa Muerte, the Goddess of Holy Death here on Earth. He loved her and longed to be with her, but would never dare touch her in that way because he was just a lowly mortal servant, unfit to be the companion of a goddess. Her vanity enjoyed the longing and devotion that would never be requited. She also valued his loyalty and intelligence. Without her Ojo, she would not have come to understand the people of this land so fast. But as useful as he was, Ojo was still a mortal man and Señora Ecsed could dispose of him if the mood suited her. Ojo knew this and counted himself blessed to be in her presence.

The skin of the woman tied to the chair had become pale and her breathing shallow. She had a far off look in her eyes as her heart beat faded. La Señora Talia Ecsed raised her head briefly to take a breath.

“Another!” she called out before returning her lips to the wound on the woman's neck.

Another of her servants, a lesser one who Ojo even struggled to remember his name, entered the room through the large doors that opened to the stairs leading to the chapel above. He walked slowly and nervously into the presence of his master. Ojo turned around and put a hand on the man’s chest.

“Why don’t you have another girl?” asked Ojo.

“Tenemos una problema,” said the man, looking at Ojo.

“What problem?” asked Señora Ecsed.

The man jumped in fright as she was now right next to him when she spoke. No one saw her get off the chair. Ojo didn’t react. He was used to the fast movements of his goddess.

“Señora Ecsed asked you a question,” said Ojo.

She did not speak Spanish. Though she knew how to speak it, it was the language of the lowly people here who would be her servants and therefore she would not sully her lips. Talia Ecsed wished she could speak her native tongue but decided English was good enough to show superiority over these people and she did not want to give away a clue to her origin.

The man nervously looked back between Ojo and Señora Ecsed who was clothed in a black cloak. Her face was partially covered by the hood, but her mouth was visible. Blood dripped from her chin.

“Perdoname, Señora Ecsed. Pero... she was the last one in her twenties. Y we don’t have any more teenagers either,” said the man.

He found a bloody hand firmly gripped around his neck, squeezing the life out of him.

“I hope you have a solution,” said Ojo.

Señora Ecsed loosed her grip on his throat enough for him to speak.

“Si… Si, si. We have a couple more being brought in and more are being sourced from the area,” he said.

“I’m thirsty now,” she replied.

“You don’t want your daughters on the menu, do you?” asked Ojo.

“No! No, señora. We have another one here. But she’s thirty two,” said the man.

“Is she pretty?” asked Señora Ecsed.

“She is very beautiful. Muy hermosa,” said the man.

She released her grip on his neck.

“You should have led with that. She will have to do. Send her down,” said Talia.

The man ran out of the room. She began licking her fingers and Ojo laughed.

“My Ojo. I can feel her,” she said.

“The lawyer?” he asked.

“Yes. Her spirit stirs. It won’t be much longer,” said Señora Ecsed.

Ojo knelt at her feet and she presented her bloody right hand. He kissed her hand graciously.

“Mi señora, mi amor, you truly are La Muerte,” said Ojo.

She placed her left hand on his head to show appreciation for his service and walked to her throne, smiling.

Chapter 4: The Shadows Breath

A week after her murder, Ximena was laid to rest in the Texas town her and Jonah called home. The sun went down and a full moon began its rise. At the stroke of midnight, a crow began tapping on her headstone. Moments later, the soil above Ximena’s grave was opened up and her casket now sat empty. Now the crow tapped to signal that there was work to do. The shivering woman curled up by the headstone was still coming to terms with her new existence. She looked up at the blackbird and wondered where she was and how she got there. Then her memories returned.

Two teens walked along the cemetery fence line, talking, joking, and smoking. It was going to be a good night for them. They were supposed to be at each other’s houses... “Studying.” With both having parents that were not too observant, the night was theirs to do what they wanted.

“Tomorrow is Halloween. We gonna get wasted. We gonna get it on.” said one.
“The girls are gonna look hot at the party. No doubt.” said the other.

A shrill scream pierced the silent night and caused them to freeze. The scream was long, blood curdling, and came from somewhere inside of the cemetery.

“What was that?” asked one.

“Dude, probably someone just screwin around,” said the other.

Neither was so sure. Then another scream forced them to consider their night officially done. They ran for whichever home was closer and hoped the screams were not meant for them.

Ximena laid by her forced open grave, tucked into the fetal position, shivering. She had been buried in her favorite pant suit. Her power suit. Someone remembered she said about not wanting to be buried in a dress. Not that she minded dresses. But she wanted to look professional going into the afterlife. Not that that really mattered at all right now. The crow was now cawing at her from atop the headstone. It thought that she was taking too long to getting reacquainted with the mortal world. She reached out to the bird but it flew away. In the light of the moon she could see it fly toward a well-lit buildings in the distance. It was still cawing. She didn’t understand what it was telling her but she knew what it meant.

Hurry up.

Nearby, in the only hospital for miles, Jonah laid silently in his bed. He too had been transferred back home when he was deem stable enough to travel. But stable didn’t men alright. He needed the assistance of a respirator and an IV to keep him alive. Wires came off his body letting the doctors and nurses know that he was still around and in need of care. Ximena stood over him. Her bare feet left dirty footprints from the window to his head. Outside you could trace her climb by the dark brown smudges on the wall. She reached out a cold shivering hand, seeking the warmth of his. When she touched his hand, her mind flashed to a memory. They were back at their apartment, packing for the trip to Mexico.

“I can't believe you talked me into this... again,” said Jonah.

“I can't believe you say that... every time,” replied Ximena.

She broke out of the memory and jerked her hand away from Jonah. Ximena stepped back confused. She didn’t understand what was happening to her. She stepped forward and grasped Jonah's hand again. She found herself in another memory.

They were in their truck.

“Have I told you how much I love you today?” said Jonah.

“Yeah. But I still like hearing it,” she replied.

The memory flashed forward. Then they were back in Rogelio’s home. Jonah walked to the front door and opened it.

“Puedo ayudarte?” he asked.

Then she saw Jonah get shot through the screen door again.

Ximena pulled away from Jonah and fell into a chair, hyperventilating and her eyes tearing. She slowly stood up and composed herself. She wanted to touch her fiancé again but heard the door handle to the room turn. Father Suarez entered the room, trying to stay quiet. He knew Jonah was in a coma but it was still night and he felt it would be rude to make noise. He approached the bed and put a hand on Jonah’s shoulder. The priest closed his eyes and recited a prayer. Mid way through the recitation he thought heard movement behind him. Father Suarez slowly opened his eyes and continued the prayer. He then noticed that the window was cracked open and dirt streaks were on the window frame. He stopped his prayer and sighed.

“The nerve of some people,” he thought to himself.

“Hasn't enough been taken this man?” he asked the intruder in the room.

There was only silence.

“I may be a priest, but you'll find me very difficult to overcome if you want to get to him,” he said.

A trembling voice ended the silence.

“Help... me…” said Ximena.

Father Suarez turned to see a young woman, wearing a suit, covered in dirt.

“What's happening?” pleaded Ximena.

The priest was silent in shock. Ximena stared at her hands.

“What am I?” she asked.

Alejandro didn’t know what the situation was but he knew the person in front of him was in distress.

“What you are is someone in need of help. What's your name?” he asked.

Ximena looked down as if trying hard to remember something.

“My name?” she asked, looking like she could not remember.

Then it came to her.

“My name… I’m Ximena,” she said.

Father Suarez felt cold. He knew the man in the room had a fiancé that was killed. He read about it in a newspaper and saw a picture of her. The woman in front of him looked just like her. But it couldn’t be.

“Sorry child. Ximena is dead,” he said.

He said it just as much to convince himself that this was a dream or hallucination as it was to convince the person in front of him that she was wrong.

“Dead?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

Ximena looked down and around the room, feeling confused. She pointed at herself.

“I'm not dead,” Ximena replied, sounding like she wasn’t so sure.

The priest walked to the door slowly, keeping an eye on the intruder. He was not dreaming. Maybe this was a hallucination. But if it was not, then there was some dark thing taking the form of a dead woman.

“Let's let Ximena be in peace,” he said.

But what if this is just a woman in trouble that just resembled Ximena? It was possible. In any case, she needed assistance.

“Let me get you some help,” he said.

It also wouldn’t hurt to know if another person could see her. He turned to walk out of the door.

“I am Ximena!” she yelled.

Father Suarez turned around, half expecting the women to be running at him but she had vanished. It was as if he had imagined the whole scene. The priest slowly backed into the hall, keeping his eyes focused on the room. He bumped into Ranger Paulson, who was running down the hall with a nurse close behind.

“Whoa, Alejandro, look out!” said the Ranger.

The priest’s face was pale.

“What happened? Are you okay? I was at the nurse’s station as we heard someone yelling,” he said.

“Oh, good. Then I’m not going crazy,” said Father Suarez.

“Huh?” asked Paulson.

“A woman was in there with me. She came through the window. I think,” said Alejandro.

“Excuse me,” said the nurse.

She tried to squeeze by them to get into the room but Ranger Paulson blocked her path with his arm.

“Is she still in there?” he asked.

“No, I think she left... through the window,” said Father Suarez.

The nurse ducked under the Ranger’s arm and rushed into the room to check on her patient.

“Through the window?” Paulson asked.

“I think I saw a ghost,” said the priest.

An hour later, Police officers and crime scene technicians were walking around the Ximena’s open grave. An anonymous caller had reported screams coming from the cemetery. The Ranger and the priest walk to the edge of the scene and Paulson motioned to one of the officers present. High above, squatting on a tree branch, Ximena watched and listened.

“Officer, who is in charge here?” Paulson asked and showed his badge.

“I'll go get him,” said the officer.

“I'm not sure what to think about what you saw, but I know you enough to know that you don't see things. And whatever happened here in the cemetery is too weird and coincidental to ignore,” said Paulson.

“I appreciate your faith in me because I was beginning to wonder,” said the priest.

Ximena stared at the priest’s face. It began to seem familiar. She realized this was the priest she had waved to in Rio Blanca.

“Just so we are clear, if I am going crazy, you’re the one enabling me,” the priest said to the Ranger.

Paulson just nodded.

“By the way, what were you doing at the hospital?” Father Suarez asked.

“I was going to see if the doctors or anybody could tell me anything about Jonah,” he replied.

“Not making any headway in the investigation?” asked the priest.

“More like I reached a dead end,” replied the Ranger.

A detective walked up to the two men. Ximena watched the scene closely.

“I'm Ranger Paulson, this is Father Alejandro Suarez,” said the Ranger.

The Detective shook the hands of both men.

“Ranger, Father. I’m Detective Saldaña. Is there something I can do for you?” asked the detective.

“I hope so,” said Father Suarez.

“We were just over at the hospital. Father Suarez was in the room of Jonah Olivares, the fiancé of the woman who is supposed to be in this grave,” said Paulson.

“Okay?” asked the detective, wondering what was going on.

Paulson looked over at the priest.

“Go ahead, Alejandro,” he said.

“A woman claiming to be the woman who belonged to this grave, broke into the hospital,” said Father Suarez.

“Hold on. Who claimed what?” asked the detective.

The priest took a deep breath.

“A woman claiming to be Ximena Mendes was at the hospital. She looked as if she just crawled out of ground. And she looked like Ximena,” he said.

The detective looked down and his shoulders deflated. He just learned that his night just got more complicated.

“You know how this sounds, right? I have to put this in a report,” said the detective.

Paulson sighed.

“Yeah, so do I. I have security covering the room right now. Looks like she escaped through the window,” he said.

The priest cleared his throat.

“The tenth floor window,” Paulson clarified.

“I figured you'd rather hear this in person than have news of a dead woman running go out over the radio,” said Paulson.

On her perch, Ximena continued to listen in on the conversation as the crow landed next to her. Then once again, she had a flashback.

Inside Diego’s home.

“The blackbird will be with you,” he said.

Jonah shot through the door.

The cloaked woman pointed at Ximena.

“Hold her down,” said the woman.

She felt the blade on her abdomen and she screamed.

A black glove covered Ximena’s mouth.

“Shhhhhhhh…” she heard the gloved man say.

Then Ximena was back in the real world, perched on a tree. Her body was trembling. Next to the grave, Paulson, the detective and Father Suarez were still talking.

“And here I thought this night was strange enough,” said Detective Saldaña.

“The night's still young,” replied Paulson.

The priest looked over at the Ranger.

“Really, Roy? Must you encourage the weirdness?” he asked.

“Sorry,” said Paulson.

Ximena’s eyes closed as her mind drifted back into memories. Her body began to lean back and she dug the nails of her right hand into the tree trunk. Her left hand gripped the branch she was squatting on. Her mind was again locked into a vision of her death and the shooting of her fiancé. The sounds of gunfire echoed in her mind as her body straightened and pulled away from the tree. Her eyes lids opened wide and her eyes rolled back in her head. Her body twitched with the sound of each gun blast.

She was in Diego’s home, held on the ground. The blade held by a black gloved hand plunged down on her.

In the tree, Ximena’s body spasmed and straightened rigidly, pulling her hands away from the tree. As she fell, she heard the voice in her head.

“Shhhhhhhh...”

Ximena fell through the branches and landed in a crouch in front of the Ranger, the priest, and the Detective. The shock sent all three stumbling back, but they all manage to keep their footing. A nearby officer drew his weapon and approached Ximena.

“Ma'am, put your hands on your head and back up slowly,” she commanded.
In her mind, Ximena only saw her murderers approaching her. She quickly reacted, taking officer's gun and flipping the woman to the ground. Another officer rushed in to grab her, but she quickly put him on the ground as well, next to the other one. Then she pointed the gun at the officers on the ground. Ranger Paulson, who already had his weapon drawn, fired three shots into Ximena’s chest. They were grouped almost perfectly. The violent force of the rounds ripped a hole through Ximena’s shirt, exposing the skin that had three holes grouped tightly enough to appear as one larger one. She dropped the gun and woke from her trance. She stepped back and opened her shirt to see the damage. Pointed flashlights gave enough light so everyone there could see the wound healing completely in a matter of seconds. Ximena turned around and ran off into the night. No one said a thing. No one pursued.

“You had to say the night was young,” Father Suarez said to the Ranger.

Chapter 5: The Shadows Smile

Ximena walked down the middle of a poorly lit street, looking down at each step she took. Her conscious mind was nowhere and everywhere, searching for answers. But there was a part of her subconscious that knew why she had returned and guided her steps to find familiar ground. Each step she took was as silent as a cat stalking for prey. She was now a hunter. But a hunter that still needed some guidance. The crow landed on a Stop sign and tapped to get her attention. Ximena stopped and looked up to find the sound. When the crow knew it had her attention, it flew down a side street. Ximena ran to follow and began to recognize where she was. She realized where the crow was leading her.

When she reached her apartment, Ximena walked up to the door and tried to turn the handle. Of course it was locked. She pounded on the door in frustration. Then she turned around, leaned against the door, and slumped to the ground. The crow landed next to her and began tapping a rock in the dirt by her feet. Ximena reached out to touch the rock and her mind took her to another memory.

She was outside with Jonah. He put a key into a fake rock and set it on the ground. Ximena was standing with her arms crossed.

“Look, the key is going to be right here,” said Jonah.

His tone was condescending but he was just messing with her.

“I don't do all the time,” said Ximena.

“No, you only lock yourself out maybe every other day,” he said, smiling.

She wasn’t amused.

“Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?” she asked him.

“Sorry,” said Jonah. “Look, I appreciate that you focus so well on your cases, it makes you one of the best and it's one of the many reasons I fell in love with you. But that focus sometimes makes you space out on the little things.”

The memory ended and she picked up the “rock.” She turned it over and slid open the secret compartment. The key was still there. She quickly stood and unlocked the door. In her rush to get in she almost forgot to take the key with her and lock the door behind her. She was home and there was only one thing she wanted to do right now.

Ximena shed her torn and dirty clothing, took a shower, and was now wearing a robe. She was sitting on her bed, flipping through a photo album of pictures of her and Jonah. The crow was on the bed next to her, observing. Ximena came across copies of her sonograms and froze. The moment she was going to lose herself in crying the crow cawed at her.

“What do you want from me?” she asked without looking up at the bird.

The crow cawed again. Ximena shut her eyes tightly. She was close to tears and now very close to rage. It cawed at her again. She could feel its intention, but her connection to the bird was still fuzzy.

“Great! I can come back from the dead, but getting a talking bird is out of the question?” she asked the universe.

The crow hopped to the floor, walked over to the closet, and tapped at the door. Ximena got up and walked to the closet. She flung the door open almost hitting the crow. It jumped back and flew up to her bed and cawed.

“What! What do you want? What’s in here?” she asked it.

It just cawed at her. Ximena marched into the closet and began throwing clothes and boxes out into the bedroom. When there was nothing left to throw she walked out of the closet and sat next to the black bird, defeated.

“There's nothing in there!” she yelled to the crow, pointing in the closet.

The crow flew into the closet and began tapping on a box that was sitting on the floor. The box was labeled, edgy cloths Jonah bought me, written in her handwriting. She meant it to be a funny jab at the man she loved.

“You’re kidding right?” she asked.

She walked into the closet, stepping over the bird as it walked back out to the bedroom. Ximena opened the box and sighed. She picked up a pair of skinny black jeans. At the bottom of the box was a case of Halloween makeup. Her mind flashed back to Halloween of the previous year.

Jonah was sitting on their bed, having just opened a box.

“It's Halloween. You know, when you get to be something you’re not.” he said.

Ximena held up the jeans and slim long sleeve black shirt.

“I'm not a Halloween person. I just don't see the appeal in changing what you look and act like,” said Ximena.

He shook his head.

“Because it's fun and it's only one night?” he replied.

She dropped the clothes onto the bed.

“Please tell me I didn’t fall in love with a man who has a Goth chick fetish,” said Ximena.

It took him a second to answer.

“No,” he said weakly.

Oh lord, he does have a thing for Goth chicks. Maybe for his birthday. Maybe. she thought to herself.

She couldn’t very well say it out loud and give the guy hope.

“Can't I be some sort of goth type person or whatever this is, with a little less depression?” she asked.

“Would you rather some sort of colorful outfit that is some sort of slutty version of something?” he countered, lightheartedly.

Just for that she decided to do the sexy Goth thing for his birthday and then suddenly have a headache. In the meantime, Ximena looked like she wanted to punch him.

“Thin ice, buddy,” she said.

“Fine, you win. Again. We won’t go the party,” he said, feeling defeated.

“You know you love me,” she said, enjoying the win.

“X, sometimes it boggles the mind,” he replied.

Ximena hugged Jonah and kissed him on the cheek. Then she threw him a bone.

“I'm impressed you got the sizes right,” she said.

Ximena opened her eyes back in the real world. She stared at the jeans in her hands.

“You win, Jonah,” she said.

The crow walked back into the closet, hopped in the box, and tapped on the makeup case.

“This isn’t enough?” she asked it.

It cawed at her. She still could not understand it, but she felt it’s meaning even clearer.

“Now you have makeup tips? And what exactly should I paint?” she asked it.

It cawed and stretchered out its wings as if saying something that was obvious. Ximena was surprise at how much she liked the idea. The crow cawed again. It was weird. It wasn’t a language exactly, but she could clearly sense the meaning of its cawing.

“Okay. It’s a good idea. You can shut up already,” she said.

When she was done, Ximena walked out of her apartment for what she knew was the last time. She had no more life here and there was nothing she could do about that. She also felt strange peace with being dead. But that peace was not enough to tame her restless soul. Her spirit would only truly find rest when something was made right. She put the key back in the fake rock and left it where it had been. There was no real point to doing that. Jonah had his key. But it was one little way of putting the world back that way it was and Ximena felt like she needed one last little goodbye to her life among the living.

She walked down the dark street through the dim and sometimes flickering glow of the old streetlights. She wore the long sleeve black shirt, black jeans, and the all black high tops that completed the ensemble. Over the shirt she wore a memento from Jonah’s youth, a Baja jacket with black and dark gray vertical stripes. He got it as a teenager and it was one of his favorite things in the world even though the coarse woolen fabric could be scratchy on the skin. It was her one addition to the outfit. The baggie hood shielded her face from the moon and streetlights.

Ximena stopped under one of the few fully functional streetlights, turned around to look back at her old world, and pulled back the hood to let the artificial glow illuminate her face. A face that was now covered with the likeness of La Calavera Catrina, the skull faced woman. A base of white covered Ximena’s face entirely. Around her eyes was black to emulate the empty sockets of a skull. A pattern of small white flower petals was drawn in black around the black voids. Her nose was painted black, her lips were painted as white teeth, and simple lines were made to mark her cheeks. Traditionally, a small cross is sometimes painted on the forehead. Ximena painted the black image of a crow with its wings stretched. The black bird landed on her shoulder and she sighed. Ximena would miss this life and those she should have shared it with.

She turned back to her new road and walked out of the light. The cold of death no longer made her shiver. The only chill she now felt was the bitter purpose of the task ahead. Vengeance called her and she picked up her pace. When her walk turned into a jog, the crow left her shoulder and began to fly above. She felt it leading her and could see through its eyes. Her jog became a run and soon after a sprint. Her eyes in the sky guided her through empty streets and shadow so that no one saw her. Ximena was dead but her body never felt more alive. She felt strong. Ximena smiled.

Chapter 6: Lost in the Overthrow

The truck stop was at the edge of town. Truckers sometimes used the lot to sleep overnight. Trailers could be left temporarily for a daily fee. Too many days without payment and the trailer then belonged to the truck stop. Tonight there were only a few scattered trailers in the lot. There was one parked all the way in the back by itself. Ximena walked slowly through the lot. The crow swooped over her, cawing. It landed on the solitary trailer in the back and tapped on it. As she approached the trailer she felt a dread come over her. She could feel what the crow knew what was inside. She lightened her steps, so not to disturb the people inside. As if she could. Ximena stared at the back of the trailer for a minute before unlatching it. When she pulled the door open a body half fell out. The woman must have been sitting with her back to the door. She hung off the end of the trailer and her lifeless eyes stared at Ximena. Just then a semi-truck pulled into the parking lot. It stopped next to a couple of trailers near the front of the lot.

“Which one is it?” asked the driver.

“Dice que... it's somewhere in the back. Esta para allá,” said the passenger, waving driver to go to the back of the lot.

Slowly the semi rolled to the rear of the lot. It stopped hard when the headlights fell on the dead women hanging from the open door.

“Oh fuck!” said the driver.

Both men jumped out of the truck and ran up to the trailer. Both were wearing gold chains with a grim pendant attached. The pendants were of Santa Muerte, resembling the Virgin of Guadalupe except for a black cloak and a skull for the face.

“How long has this been out here?” asked the driver, covering his face with a handkerchief.

The smell was bad. There was a mix of body odors, sweat, and what happens when people lose control of bowl and bladder. It didn’t yet smell like death, but it was getting close. Both men desperately tried not to gag.

“I don’t know. Sabes… a couple days.” said the passenger.

The crow flew over their heads cawing. As it was the least exciting thing to happen that night, both men ignored it.

“Who the hell left it out here?” asked the driver.

“One of los pinche new guys I think,” said the passenger.

“La Muerte is going to have to have his ass,” said the driver.

“She’ll have our asses if we don’t get this out of here,” said the passenger.

“No shit, pendejo. Fuck. At least no one found it yet,” said the driver.

“Somebody probably broke in to steal somethin and ran. Maybe they called the cops,” said the passenger.

“If the cops knew, they be here already. Let’s just hook it up and get the hell out of here. Help me get the body back in the trailer,” said the driver.

As they stepped up to the body, they heard a loud thump come from the top of the trailer. They looked up to see a skull faced woman staring down at them.

“Como estas?” asked Ximena.

Both men reached for their guns, looking down only for a second. When they looked back up Ximena was gone.

“Where did she go?” asked the passenger.

Ximena attacked them from behind. She landed a side kick that impacted between the shoulder blades of the semi driver, launching him into the rear of the trailer. He was unconscious before he hit the ground. The passenger tried to turn towards Ximena with his gun but she had already begun her next move, spinning her body counter clockwise and extending her leg, low. The sweep took the man’s legs out from under him. When he hit the ground his gun bounced out of his hand and disappeared into the dark. Ximena grabbed his chain and ripped it off his neck. When she touched the pendant she flashed back into memory. The men holding her down in Rogelio’s home were wearing the same pendant on similar chains.

The passenger scrambled to his feet and pulled a knife. Ximena was just standing there, with her eyes closed, reliving her murder. It looked like her eyes were moving rapidly. Not wasting his chance, he quickly stepped forward and stabbed Ximena in the stomach. She calmly opened her eyes and grabbed him by the throat. He uselessly tried to pry her hand away, while she pulled the knife out. Still holding the blade, she pulled up her jacket and shirt, exposing the wound.

“Watch this,” she said.

His struggle slowed when he saw the wound on her stomach heal. She lifted him by his neck, pushed him against the back of the trailer, and jammed the knife into the door, next to his head.

“For the record, that still hurt. A lot,” said Ximena.

It was a quiet night at the border crossing. It was technically morning, but night was still hanging on to the sky. Right now, only two lanes were open, one in and one out. The tall border fence of concrete and steel extended for miles on both sides of the passage between countries. Only a few cars waited to enter the U.S. and there was no one crossing from the American side. It had been a slow night. Two Border Patrol Agents stood out on the street away from the harsh florescent lights. The senior of the two needed to stretch her legs a bit and she brought along the rookie for some company.

“How are you liking it so far?” asked the senior Agent.

“It’s alright. I'm getting the hang of it,” said the rookie.

He was just out of the academy.

“Well your lucky you’re starting on a slow night,” she told the rookie.

She had been doing this for ten years and sometimes the job still managed to surprise her.

“Right,” he said and laughed nervously. “So anything crazy ever go on at this location?”

They turned around and began slowly walking back to the front of the crossing.

“Not too much. Not at night anyway. The bigger crossings get the heavier traffic and usually the bigger surprises,” she said.

“You don't get worried about the guys on the other side?” asked the rookie.

He didn’t specify that he was talking about the Mexican police on the other side, but she knew who he meant.

“Not really. They’re just doing their job like we are,” she replied.

The crow landed in front of the Agents, blocking their path back. The Border Agents paused for a second at the surprise. The bird cawed loudly at them.

“Just walk around it,” said the senior agent.

They tried to walk past but it spread it wings and cawed again, stepping in their way and stopping their advance. Then it just stared at them.

“That's weird. Something like this ever happen?” asked the rookie.

The senior Agent scratched her head.

“No, this is a new one. They usually hang out on the roofs or just fly by,” she said

She tried to shoo the crow away but it just cawed back.

“Go on! Get out of here!” she yelled at it and kicked out her foot, trying to scare it away.

The bird did not budge. They tried to walk around it again, one on either side, but the crow just kept walking and hopping out in front of them trying to block their path.

“This thing is beginning to creep me out,” said the rookie.

“You guys got a new friend?” called out an agent standing in front of the crossing.

“Shut up, Gary,” said the senior agent.

Other Border Patrol Agents began to walk up to see what was going. The crow just turned around to get a look at everyone. Then it flew away. All the agents looked as it flew off. No one said anything. For a moment the only sound was the river flowing under the bridge.

“Alright. Shows over,” said the senior agent.

The walk back to their posts was interrupted by the hard revving sound of a semi truck's engine out in the distance. It clearly came from the American side, but the road wasn’t lit and there were no headlights to be seen.

“Sounds like a semi,” said the rookie.

Up the road, the semi’s lights turned on. It was facing the border crossing and it was not moving.

“Don't they usually go to the bigger crossings,” asked the rookie.

“Not all the time. Depends on the cargo and destination,” said the senior Agent, calmly.

But she wasn’t feeling calm. Semis did use this crossing. It was nothing out of the ordinary. But something was making the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

“Everyone back to your posts,” she commanded.

Then the semi’s high beams kicked on and it sounded like it shifted into gear, and the air braked hissed.

“Heads up, we might have a situation,” she called out.

The truck started moving forward, slowly at first. Then the engine revved harder and the pitch of the engine’s whine changed rapidly as the gears shifted higher and higher. An agent called out to his counterparts on the Mexican side to turn cars around. Others hurried to their positions. The semi kept speeding up and it sounded its horn.

An Agent got on the public address system and called out, “Stop your vehicle!”

The truck continued its approach.

“Halt or you will be fired upon,” called out from the PA speakers.

The voice repeated the warning in Spanish just in case. But the truck kept coming.

“Stop your vehicle!” once again from the PA.

But there was no stopping.

“Open fire!” called out the senior agent.

Pistols and rifles began to unload in the direction of the truck. The windshield shattered and couple of the lights went out, but it kept coming. Inside the truck, the rounds passed through the glass and into the empty seats. Belts tied to the steering wheel kept it in place, aiming the truck for the crossing. A cinder block sat on the gas pedal. On the roof of the trailer, Ximena crouched low and steadied herself. The Border Agents continued their assault to little effect. Then a lucky ricochet caught the edge of one of the belts tied to the steering wheel. The belts began to loosen, and the steering wheel began to turn.

“Take cover!” yelled the senior agent, before the truck started to veer off.

It charged off the road, into the dirt and then into the border fence. The concrete and steel section of fence was nearly destroyed, but it stopped the truck dead. Before the collision, Ximena had moved to the back of the trailer. She ran the length of the trailer, and jumped on impact. The extra boost of energy she got from the semi carried her over the fence and then clear over the river. She landed in a roll into the shrubbery of the Mexican side, completely unseen.

The senior agent approached the truck carefully, flanked by the rookie and several other agents. The dead and broken engine hissed and steamed. Through a small window on the lower part of the driver’s side door she could see that no one was in the driver’s or passenger seat. Carefully she reached for the door handle and opened the door.

“Whoever is in there, show me your hands!” she yelled.

The only sound was a muffled groan of someone who sounded like they were in pain. She slung her rifle and pulled her side arm. With her pistol in hand, she climbed into the cab and carefully opened the curtain of the sleeper section. The driver and passenger were tied up and gagged in the back.

“We got two guys tied up back here,” she called out

Another agent called out from the rear of the trailer.

“Someone better get a look at this!” he shouted.

The senior agent walked to the back of the truck.

“What is it?” she asked as she got there.

The agent was bent over, retching.

“Oh my God,” she said, seeing inside the trailer with her flashlight.

On the Mexican side of the river, Ximena watched from the shadows. The crow landed on her shoulder and cawed.

“You were right. No one got hurt,” she said to it.

The crow flew off and she turned around. Both disappeared into the darkness.

Chapter 7: Beneath the Smoking Skies

The sun had just broken through the night over the town of Rio Blanca. Father Suarez stepped out of a taxi and entered his church. Crossing into Mexico that morning took longer than usual. The border crossing had been shut down for a few hours after a semi crash. Fortunately he had only caught a ride to the border and crossed on foot, not bringing much with him, which helped speed his crossing along. It was easy getting a cab once inside Mexico. Inside the church, Rogelio felt like he had come home. He walk up to the altar and found a note waiting for him.

“Back later. Welcome home,” it read in English.

He shook his head and walked to a hallway just left of the altar. Father Suarez opened the door to his room and stepped in. He set his bags down on his bed and heard movement behind him.

“Is that you, Sister?” he asked, not turning to see.

There was no answer. He shook his head again.

“I don't know what you want, but there is no money here,” he said in English.

For a second he wasn’t sure why he said that in English, but he wrote it off to just being tired. He began unpacking.

“I'm not here to rob you,” said Ximena.

The Priest didn’t turn around. He recognized the voice.

“Oh. It’s you,” said the priest, as he resumed unpacking. “And what do you what from me?”

“Information. I suppose,” said Ximena.

Father Suarez turned to face his guest.

“That's all? You have to forgive me if I...” Her makeup gave him pause. “Have my doubts”

“What’s with the face?’ he asked.

“It’s kind of a contractual obligation. Apparently,” she replied.

“Uh, huh,” he said.

Ximena stepped out from behind the door and placed herself between the priest and the doorway. It was not her intention to look like she was blocking his exit.

“And to answer your question, yes just information. That's all. May God strike me down,” said Ximena.

She smiled at her bad joke crossed her heart.

“Bad choice of words in this house,” said the priest.

Someone grabbed Ximena from behind. She was thrown into the hall and she bounced off of the wall. She managed to stay on her feet but before she could react, a booted foot hit her chest, slamming Ximena back into the wall. Then a knee thrust into her stomach. Someone spun her around and Ximena’s arms were pinned behind her. The attacking nun walked Ximena back into the priest’s room.

“Sister. Let her go,” said Father Suarez.

Ximena’s arms were released and she thrusts an elbow back at the nun. It was blocked. Before the fight could escalate...

“Stop! Both of you!” shouted the priest.

The two women took a step back from each other. The nun raised her hands signaling a truce.

“You'll have to forgive Sister Sarah. Intruders tend to shoot first and ask questions later if at all,” he said to Ximena.

“Nice moves,” Ximena said to Sarah.

The nun just nodded. Then Sarah waved her hand in front of her face and pitched up her chin in a question.

“She says it’s a job requirement,” said the priest.

The nun raised an eyebrow. “The hell does that mean?” she asked non-verbally.

“Damned if I know,” said Father Suarez.

“Okay. I guess,” said Sarah’s eyes.

“She take a vow of silence?” asked Ximena.

The priest took a second to answer.

“Not exactly. How goes the whole undead thing?” he asked, changing the subject.

Sister Sarah raised another questioning eyebrow.

“I’ll explain in a bit,” the priest told her.

The crow landed on the window frame and tapped at the glass.

“Friend of yours?” asked Father Suarez.

“It would seem so,” replied Ximena.

Father Suarez walked to the window and let the crow in. It glided down and stood on his bed. It looked around then flew up to take a position on top of a dresser. Ximena remained standing while Sister Sarah leaned against the door frame. A sense of shock chilled through Sister Sarah’s body, but she kept enough control so that no one noticed.

“So, I assume you want information about a person. Who do you want to know about?” he asked.

“Her,” said Ximena.

She held out the pendant of the skull faced woman.

“Her huh? To what ends? You going to replace her?” asked the priest.

“Of course not. I just have to find her,” she replied.

Father looked to Sister Sarah who was still leaning on the door frame. Though unable to speak, Sarah was not silent. Facial expressions, body language, basic gestures, and a workable knowledge of sign language enabled Sarah to be very opinionated. Right now she said nothing. The Priest could tell she knew something.

“A woman took control of the local cartel some time ago. I’ve heard the name Señora Ecsed. She’s also referred to as La Muerte. My understanding is that some think she is a witch. Her followers think she is the embodiment of a god,” he said.

“As in Santa Muerte? Seriously?” asked Ximena, thinking it sounded like a joke.

The crow cawed. Ximena rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, she obviously isn’t the real one. Do you have anything helpful?” she asked the black bird.

It stayed silent. Father Suarez wasn’t sure what to make of the woman talking to the bird. He looked a little confused. Sister Sarah still wasn’t giving away anything.

“Hey, that’s what I hear. And I don't know where to find her,” he told Ximena.

“So what can you do to help me?” she asked.

“I can advise you to go home,” he said.

Ximena grabbed a chair and sat.

“Legally I’m not alive anymore and I’m stuck undead until I fix a few things. So home is not an option. What else do you got?” she asked.

The priest sighed.

“If you are intent on finding her, she'll probably find you first,” he replied.

“Okay, let me rephrase. Do you have anything useful?” asked Ximena.

“I won’t help you kill anyone,” said the priest.

“Not even someone who slaughters the innocent?” she asked.

“I will not raise my hands in violence or help commit violence. It is a vow that I will not break for anyone,” he said.

“It must be nice having that choice,” she replied.

“There is always a choice,” said the Priest.

“Not for someone like me. Where ever this leads, I gotta go,” said Ximena.

“There is more to this, isn’t there. It’s not just about Jonah. It’s also because of your baby,” he said.

For a few seconds, silence.

“You know about that?” Ximena asked.

“I heard, yes,” said the priest.

“Do you know why?” she asked, her voice cold.

“Why she took it?” he asked.

“Yes. I need to know,” she said.

He had heard rumors. But rumors could just be rumors. Father Suarez looked at Sarah. Sarah blew out a breath and nodded.

“I can't say for sure. I’ve heard people talk, but it could just be talk,” he said.

“Just tell me,” said Ximena.

“The rumor is that this Señora Ecsed performs... Rituals and sacrifices,” he said.

Ximena had a quick flashback to her own murder. This time she could hear the cloaked woman’s voice chanting something after her vision went black.

“The rumors are true, Padre,” she said.

Ximena walked past the nun, bumping into her shoulder on purpose. Sister Sarah’s reaction was to only roll her eyes.

“Be careful. The people say she is very strong and very dangerous,” Father Suarez called out.

“She can't kill me twice,” Ximena called back.

“People aren't supposed to return from the dead either,” he said under his breath.

Sister Sarah uncrossed her arms, raised her palms, and tilted her head up slightly.

“Yeah. A lot happened. I’ll fill you in,” said the priest. “But before that, what do you know?”

Sister Sarah rubbed her chin and looked like she did not know where to begin. Then she shrugged.

“No. You won’t hold out on me now, Sister. I can tell you know something,” he said.

She took a deep breath and said “Long story” in American Sign Language.

She could not speak when she showed up to the church two years ago. Father Suarez grew up with deaf family members and had learned sign language when he was a child. He taught it to Sarah.

“Painful experience?” he signed.

She nodded. Father Suarez knew some of her more recent trauma, but he could sense that there was more, buried inside. He suspected something happened to her when she was younger but she had yet to talk about it.

“Okay. You don’t have to tell me everything. But you know what she is, right?” he asked.

She nodded again.

“What can you tell me?” Father Suarez asked.

Sister Sarah revealed some lore she had discovered about how a crow carries souls to the afterlife and that sometimes it carries a restless soul back to make right what went wrong.

“You are saying a soul can be sent back to take revenge? That is not how it works, Sister,” he said.

“I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve seen it happen. I think it’s above your pay grade.” she signed and shrugged.

“So it’s going to get bad,” signed Father Suarez.

She nodded. He could tell there was a lot on her mind.

“Can you tell me what happened to you?” he asked.

“I’ve only been able to talk to one other person about it. Someone who was also there when it happened. But he is gone now. Let me think about it. Okay?” she signed.

“Take as long as you need,” he told her.

Sarah patted her friend on his shoulder and walked to her room.

Back at the Border Crossing, the morning was in full swing. Ranger Paulson and Agent Elizondo were in one of the offices with a few of the Border Agents that had been working overnight.

“A woman in black with a skull painted on her face?” asked the Ranger.

“Yeah, I know,” said the senior Agent “They said they stabbed her but she healed and kept going at them.”

“I think they were high or something,” said the rookie.

“Or something,” said Agent Elizondo.

Paulson scribbled in his note pad.

“Anything else?” he asked, sounding skeptical.

“Hey, they said it. We're just telling you what they were going on about. We didn’t see anyone else,” said the senior Agent.

She was tired and annoyed. She should have been back home already, getting ready to go to bed. Instead she had hours of paperwork and now she was being grilled by a Ranger and his pet Federale.

“Anything else painted on her face?” asked Elizondo.

The senior agent took a breath and exhaled, calming her nerves.

“They said she had a black bird painted on her forehead,” she said.

Elizondo rubbed the temples on his head.

“And she never once identified herself?” he asked.

“Not that they told us,” she replied.

“I think that's good for now, thanks,” said Ranger Paulson.

“Good luck,” said the Senior Agent.

The Border Agents walked out of the room.

“Do you believe that? Those guys must have been high,” he said.

“Maybe,” said Paulson.

Elizondo got a confused look on his face.

“You think they are telling the truth?” he asked.

The Ranger walked to the door and locked it. Elizondo's shoulders dropped.

“Why can't you ever give me good news?” he asked his friend.

Paulson remained silent.

“Okay, fine. It doesn't leave this room,” said Elizondo.

“You know Father Suarez, right?” asked Paulson.

“The priest in Rio Blanca?” asked Elizondo.

“Yeah. Well last night, Father Suarez saw a woman in Jonah Montgomery's hospital room. That same woman showed up when we were at the dead fiancé’s grave,” said Paulson.

“Where are you going with this?” Elizondo asked.

The Ranger's shoulders dropped this time.

“She looked exactly like Ximena, Jonah’s fiancé,” said the Ranger.

“What?” asked Elizondo, not believing.

“And I shot her. Point blank. The shot went clean through and didn't faze her.” said Paulson.

“She could have been on PCP or something,” said Elizondo.

“PCP doesn’t make your wounds heal instantly,” Paulson replied.

Elizondo’s face reflected his mental struggle to reconcile this story with reality.

“You know how you sounds right?” asked Elizondo.

“Look, I don't know if this is some crazy, street magic crap this chick is pulling. But if it's the same woman who jumped these guys…” Paulson started saying.

“And it looks like she may be heading for Rio Blanca,” Elizondo completed the thought.

Agent Elizondo's head dropped.

“This is going to get bad real quick, isn't it?” he asked.

“Pretty much,” the Ranger replied.

The sound of barking caused both men to look out the window. Border Patrol Agents had two men with their heads on the hood of a car, and their hands cuffed behind their backs. A K-9 Agent held his dog at bay while other Agents pulled packets of drugs out of the car seats.

“And it still won't change anything,” said Paulson.

“Gringos still gotta get their fix,” said Elizondo.

“And people will always fight to get the corner on the market,” said Paulson.

“Mexicans die while Americans get high,” said Elizondo.

I was hard to argue the point.

“Yeah.” replied the Ranger.

Chapter 8: Slight Case of Death

Señora Ecsed stood under a single beam of light from a broken window in a warehouse. Her posture was regal and commanding, with her hands clasped behind her back. Her hood was down revealing her strikingly black hair. Her pale skin glowed in the dusty light and deep brown eyes had an intensity that could pierce the soul. The one called Hijo stood to her left. He didn't talk. Tall, tanned skinned, muscular, always wearing black gloves, he was La Muerte’s body guard and chief enforcer. Facing her was Ojo.

“So, my Ojo, what do you have for me today?” asked Señora Ecsed.

“My Lady, the abandoned truck was captured by los gringos. La pinche migra,” he replied.

“Captured? How? You sent men, right?” she asked.

This complication was not supposed to happen. Ojo felt shame and anger over the failure.

“Yes, my Lady. They got jumped. Someone tied them in the cab of the truck and ran it into a border crossing,” he said.

Señora Ecsed leaned forward, her anger becoming visible, but she still remained controlled. While her fury grew, she spoke calmly.

“Do we know who?” she asked.

Ojo certainly had fear for this woman that he loved and worshiped. But he would never disrespect her by showing it. If she needed his death, or to give him pain, he would take it with love and dignity.

“My source tells me the men were talking about a woman in black, with a painted face. They said they stabbed her but she wouldn't die,” said Ojo.

She glanced over at Hijo and then back to Ojo. Her anger turned into interest with a wicked smile.

“So she is on her way. That is very interesting news. Did they say anything else about this woman?” she asked.

“No, my Lady. That's all I could find out. For now. But we know that the gringos think the men were high,” he said.

She crossed her arms and contemplated the news, smiling at the implications.

“Not a surprise. Is there anything else?” she asked.

“Yes. Three of Lozano's men were found in our area,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow. The previous cartel had a strangle hold on this area but she turned many of its men to her side through her brutality and demonstrating her supernatural abilities. There were still holdouts however, trying to undermine her rule.

“The old man does not give up. What were they doing?” she asked.

“Collecting produce. Produce which we now own,” he said, now smiling himself.

Ojo had gifts for his goddess. Gifts he knew that she would appreciate greatly. She perked up and almost became giddy.

“Really? Show me,” she said with the smile of a child on Christmas morning.

“Of course, my Lady,” said Ojo, feeling proud of himself for bringing joy to his goddess.

“Bring them in!” he called out.

A door opened and armed men forcefully escorted five young women into the room and lined them up before their mistress. Each was gagged, with their hands tied behind their backs. They also dragged a chair into Señora Ecsed’s view. Tied to it was a man in his twenties. He was also gagged and looked badly beaten.

“College trip?” asked La Señora.

“Si, Señora,” said one of the gunmen.

“The boyfriend was sneaking around keeping tabs on his chick. He got a little aggressive protecting her so we needed to calm him down,” said Ojo.

She walked over to the women, and looked them up and down very carefully, taking in their forms. The witch stopped in front of the one the redhead in the group.

“Interesting. I have never tried on one like you before,” she said, stroking the woman’s hair. “Very pretty.”

The college student tried to back away but Ojo’s rough hand pushed her forward. Señora Ecsed looked into the scared woman’s eyes and smiled.

“Which is the girlfriend?” asked Señora Ecsed.

Ojo walked behind the only blond in the group and pushed her a step forward.

“Este blondie,” he said.

Señora Ecsed slowly approached the woman and looked at the boyfriend.

“I can see why you wanted to keep an eye on this one,” she told the boyfriend.

She brushed hair from the woman's face and looked into her blue eyes. The blonde looked away in terror.

“Take off her gag,” she commanded.

One of her men stepped forward and cut the gag with a knife.

“Please. Let us go. We won’t tell…” the woman didn’t get to finish.

Señora Ecsed waved her hand in front of the blonde's face. The college student stopped talking and her eyes glaze over.

“She talks too much. Boys, take her into the back room. It's been a long time since I've had a blonde. And put the boyfriend where he can watch,” she said with a wide grin.

It only took a gentle pull of her arm to get the blonde walking to a back room. The chair with her boyfriend was dragged along. The other women tried to call out to their friend but she did not respond.

“Silence!” commanded Señora Ecsed.

Her voice echoed throughout the warehouse and the college students felt her voice chill them like a cold, angry wind and fell silent.

“What about the others?” Ojo asked.

“Hmm. Very good question,” said Señora Ecsed.

She looked at them carefully again.

“They are all very pretty. They will do very well bringing in some extra income. Or I may keep them for myself. I don’t know yet,” she said.

Señora Ecsed leaned in to smell the hair the nearest college student making the woman cringe. Ojo laughed.

“They are all sweet, aren't they? Maybe I will save them for myself. Take them to the mission. If they make trouble, put them up for rent or give them to the boys as a reward. You may keep one if you like.” she told Ojo.

“Si, mi amor,” he replied.

“But don’t touch her.” she said pointing to the redhead. “I’ll be having her for dinner.”

Ojo snapped his fingers and the gunmen took the women away. The struggled and tried to scream, but no one was there to save them.

“Ojo, do you still have Lozano’s men?” she asked.

“Si, My Lady. Well… We have their bodies,” he responded.

“That is good enough. Send the old man their heads with my compliments,” she said.

“Yes, my Lady Ecsed,” he replied.

He turned to leave when his goddess got a better idea.

“Wait,” she called out.

“Yes, my Lady?” asked Ojo.

“Leave the heads on. Paint a bird on their chests with their blood and leave their bodies where Lozano's people can find them,”

“A bird?” he asked.

“Yes, a bird. With its wings outstretched. And wait till nightfall to transport the girls,” she told him.

As ordered, after dark a cargo van carrying the college students headed down an unlit road, away from the town. A jeep with more armed men followed. The van driver was silent, keeping his eyes on the road. The man in the passenger's seat was sleeping. The crying from the back of the van did not bother them in the least. The drive was uneventful until a crow began flying in front if the van, just outside the windshield. The driver reached over and hit the passenger.

“Mira, mira!” he told his friend.

“What? Estoy durmiendo, cabrón,” said the sleepy passenger.

“Mira. Un crow,” said the driver.

The passenger opened his eyed and noticed the bird flying in front of the van like a pilot fish.

“Que extraño,” he said.

Ximena stood in the road waiting. Both men in the front of the van had their attention fixed on the crow, not noticing the woman in black.

“Think I can hit it?” the driver asked.

The passenger looked at the driver.

“Don't be stupid,” he replied.

The passenger looked forward just in time to see the skull face in the headlights, shining out from the dark.

“Lookout!” he yelled.

Finally seeing Ximena, the driver swerved the van, managing to narrowly miss the black clad woman in the road. Following too close, the jeep ran Ximena down, and skid to a stop. The four men in the jeep jumped out to look for a body. The van had screeched to a halt as well. The driver and passenger ran back to the jeep crew to see what happened.

“Did you hit her?” the van driver asked.

“Yeah I hit her! Pendejo,” said the jeep driver.

“Hey, you follow to close,” said the van driver.

“Shut up!” was the reply.

One of the gunmen from the jeep walked back down the road to find the body but saw nothing.

“Nadie aquí!” he yelled out.

“Estas loco! Look harder!” yelled the jeep driver.

Ximena silently snuck up behind the gunman. She grabbed a rifle from one, and struck him in the back of his head before he could react. The unconscious man fell forward signaling the others that they were being attacked. By the time they were turning to face Ximena, she was already landing blows to knock them out too. The two drivers managed to run and get behind the van.

“Call Ojo!” yelled the van driver.

Ximena silently climbed on top of the van and jumped down in front of them. With perfect form, she punched the Jeep driver, making the target of her punch inches beyond his face. He was out instantly and fell to the ground. The van driver ran. She grabbed a pistol from the Jeep driver’s belt and threw it at the van driver. It missed his head by inches. Not seeing the gun in the darkness in front of him, he tripped on it, slamming his head into ground, knocking himself out.

“That works too,” said Ximena.

Ximena searched the Jeep driver, tossing a few hidden knives into the dark besides the road. She found another gun in an ankle holster and tucked it into the back of her pants.

“Just in case you wake up and get ideas,” she said.

She walked to the back of the van and opened the doors. The women inside recoiled at the site of the skull faced Ximena.

“Hello ladies,” said Ximena.

Then she removed the gag on the nearest one.

“Please, don't hurt us,” said the woman.

Ximena pointed to the men on the ground.

“But I just... Hurt you? Really?” she asked.

She took a breath.

“Forget it. Where were they taking you?” Ximena asked.

“I don't know. That woman just told them to take us to some mission,” said the frightened woman.

“What woman?” asked Ximena.

“Some scary looking woman in a black cloak,” she replied.

Ximena placed a hand on the woman's head, accessing the woman’s memory of Señora Ecsed ordering her men to move the women. Ximena pulled back her hand. The woman became further distressed and confused by this experience.

“What was that, what did you do?” she asked.

“Calm down, princess,” said Ximena.

The crow had landed on top of the van and was standing over the back of it. Through its eyes Ximena saw one of the jeep gunmen get up and raise a gun in Ximena’s direction. Without thinking, she grabbed the gun from her back, spun and fired, hitting the gunman in the head, but not before he fired once. His shot, hit Ximena’s shoulder and passed through her and into the van, missing everyone in the back. The women in the van screamed in fright. Two more of the gunmen started to get up. Ximena coldly took aim and killed both. For a few seconds she kept aim, making sure no one else got up. Then she snapped out of it. Her head jerked back and she dropped the gun.

“No! Dammit! What the hell!” Ximena yelled.

Ximena ripped the slide off the top of the pistol and tossed the parts. When she turned around the women in the van stared at her silently.

“Are you okay?” the un-gagged woman asked.

“Yeah. I, uh... heal fast,” said Ximena, opening the hole in the shoulder of her shirt, displaying the last bit of the wound healing.

“What are you?” the woman asked.

“I’m Bat-Man,” said Ximena in a gravelly voice.

The woman looked confused. Ximena looked disappointed with herself.

“Sorry. That was stupid. Act like that never happened,” she said.

Ximena began untying the woman.

“Untie the rest of your menagerie, take the van, and don't stop till you’re across border,” said Ximena.

“But. But. But…” from the woman.

“But nothing. Get moving,” Ximena commanded.

Chapter 9: Her Name is What it Means

The boyfriend struggled against his restraints. The gag forced him to speak only in grunts. His eyelids were held open with speculums and his head was braced in place, forcing him to watch the morbid coupling. At the beginning of the show he was filled with rage. As it progressed his emotions plummeted into a helpless sorrow. He could do nothing but watch as his girlfriend seemingly took an active part in her own demise. Lady Ecsed sauntered up to him while tying her black robe closed. Her skin was completely painted red with blood. Her bloody lips formed the smile of someone who just had the time of her life. Señora Ecsed rubbed the blood over her face and arms like lotion. Then she sat on his lap.

“I really needed that. Young blood does wonders for the complexion,” she said.

She rested her head on his shoulder and traced a finger on his chest.

“Did you enjoy the show? I took my time just for you,” she said.

He mumbled something. She gave the exaggerated frown of a pouting child.

“Oh, don't be like that. She enjoyed her agony. Those weren't just screams of pain,” she told him.

She sat up straight, kissed his cheek, and looked him in his eyes.

“It is so hard finding purer lines of European blood here. Your darling was a rare treat for me,” she said.

He mumbled something. She didn’t understand what it was so she chose to answer a question that flattered her vanity.

“Since you asked, you may address me as Lady Ecsed, my Lady, or Señora Ecsed. Some call me La Muerte when not in my company. It’s an informality I allow my subjects. Anyway, I know it hurts that you will never have the company of that dear girl again. That is why I allowed your presence. You should know that viewing a noble woman as she enjoys herself so intimately is a gift only a fortunate few will ever experience. And in compensation for your loss, I offer you a life serving me. It is a great honor,” she said.

He mumbled something else.

“By your tone I take it you don’t want to serve me,” said Señora Ecsed.

Another mumble. This one was angrier.

“I admire your conviction,” she replied.

Lady Ecsed kissed the gag over his mouth and turned her head to the door.

“I'm done,” she called out.

Two men entered the room and walked to the bed. She leaned back on the boyfriend to watch the body’s removal.

“I do hope you got to enjoy her as much as I did,” she told him.

The men walked by with the body wrapped in the blood stained sheets. When the men were gone, Lady Ecsed stood up and kissed the boyfriend on his forehead. Then she covered her face with her hands and wiped them upwards. The blood on her face faded away and her eyes were now a deep blue. Her eyebrows turned blond and her dark brown hair transformed into the golden silky mane of the woman she just killed. The boyfriend went silent in astonished horror. She had stolen the features of his girlfriend. She could now transform her whole body into the likeness of the dead woman if she pleased. But for now, as she had done so often before, she used the traits of the women she killed to enhance her own beauty.

“My dear boy, since you have refused my offer of employment, your spine and your skull will be removed from your body and mounted on my wall. In honor of your strong spirit,” said Lady Ecsed, smiling.

He began screaming through is gag and struggled harder.

“Don't be rude. I was going to be merciful and kill you first, but just for that you’re going to be alive when I start cutting you up,” she told him.

One of her men grabbed the back of the chair and dragged him out of the room as she picked up a mirror and admired herself.

“How lovely,” she told herself.

Ojo walked in.

“My Lady, someone jumped the van with the girls,” he said.

Lady Ecsed looked slightly concerned, but didn’t bother turning away from the mirror.

“Dead?” she asked.

“Not all of them,” replied Ojo.

“Have what’s left meet me at the mission,” she said.

“Si, my Lady,” he replied.

She turned to face Ojo.

“What do you think?” she said, holding her hands out.

“Beautiful,” he replied.

“I thought so too,” she said

The day was getting late. People were heading home and locking their windows and doors. No candy or treats would be served on this All Hallows’ Eve. The weight of Señora Ecsed’s shadow pressed the fear of the dark into the town’s population. Sister Sarah was dusting the altar in the church. She could feel the weight of the darkness too. It felt like it used to when she was a child and the Devil’s night would fire up into chaos. While there had been a happy ending, she occasionally had nightmares of her friends being murdered and someone grabbing her from behind and pulling her into the darkness. She used to have someone to talk to who had also experienced those dark nights but he passed away years ago, though not through violence. She’d warned him about his love of hot dogs and all that other processed food he enjoyed.

Sister Sarah pounded her fists on the altar in frustration. It was happening again. This time she knew what was coming. It was easy to talk to her old friend because they had shared the experience. They could talk about the good things while leaving the bad unsaid. But now her new friend could be in danger. Him and this whole town. She walked to the back of the church to find Father Suarez. She opened the back door and found him feeding cats. He looked up at the nun.

“If you keep feeding the strays, more will come,” she signed.

The priest wipes his hands on his pants and got up.

“Yeah, well. We are all strays here. We have to look out for each other,” he said.

She half smiled and sighed.

“I’m ready to talk,” she signed.

“Okay, start from the beginning,” said Father Suarez.

She wasn’t sure how to start exactly. Just thinking about everything that happened brought back a lot of hurt and sadness. Time had not healed all the wounds and she never properly addressed them either. The nun began signing rapidly and energetically.

“Whoa! Slow down! And stop cussing. Where did you even learn how to sign those words? I didn’t teach you that,” said Father Suarez.

Sister Sarah frowned and looked frustrated.

“I appreciate you teaching me ASL and helping me find a voice, but I’ll speak how I want,” she signed.

“If you want to be a nun, then you have to abide by the standards. Now tell me again, but slow down a bit and try to keep it PG,” said the Priest.

Sister Sarah rolled her eyes and recounted her experience. Slower this time.

“Was it really your friend who came back?” he asked.

“I know in my heart it was,” she signed in reply.

“I’m not sure what to do with all that,” he said.

“Not much to do but be ready,” she replied.

He nodded his head and then wondered if his definition of ready was the same as hers.

“Be ready how exactly?” he asked.

“I’ll take care of it,” she signed.

“Sister, don’t do something stupid. You chose this life. You know what it means to serve as we do,” he said.

“I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me,” she signed.

He knew better than to argue.

“God have mercy on us,” he said.

The men who survived the failed transport of the college women stood silently. They cringed and flinched at the sounds of breaking bones and chopping sounds. Ojo and other men stood behind them. Señora Ecsed walked up with bloody hands and wiped her face with her forearm. Ojo handed her the shirt that the boyfriend was wearing.

“He went too quickly. A young virial man should really last longer,” she said, sounding disappointed.

“Some guys are all talk,” said Ojo.

She wiped her hands with the shirt, but they were still stained red. Then she turned her attention to the men in front of her.

“So... A woman dressed in black attacked you. And her face was painted like a skull, Calavera Catrina style. Anything else?” she asked.

“Si, Señora Ecsed. I mean no,” said the Jeep driver, nervously.

“And you let her live,” she said.

It was not a question. The passenger of the van was nearly shaking.

“No, Señora Ecsed. We shot her. But she kept going. The bullets pass through her and everything,” he said.

“And... everything,” she repeated.

Ojo shook his head.

“You also let my property escape. And it was very pretty property. One was a flavor I had not yet tried,” she told the men.

She pointed to the passenger. Ojo walked up to him and shoot him in the head.

“He was useless anyway,” she said.

Señora Ecsed pointed at the Jeep Driver.

“You,” she said.

“Me?” he asked.

“You gots another chance to prove you’re not so useless,” Ojo told him.

“Ojo, bring me one,” Lady Ecsed commanded.

Ojo walks into another room and came back with a Mexican woman, gagged, with her hands tied behind her back. She looked like she was in her twenties.

“This is one of the local flavors. Pretty isn't she?” Lady Ecsed asked.

She didn’t wait for an answer. She handed the Jeep driver a knife.

“Cut her throat,” she commanded.

The woman started crying and struggled to break free but Ojo was too strong.

“What?” asked the Jeep driver.

“I'm thirsty. Cut her throat,” she said.

Ojo put his arm around the woman and pulled her head back to expose her neck more. Lady Ecsed grabbed the Jeep driver’s hand and put the blade to the woman’s neck.

“Right here on the jugular. Quick and clean. Or would you rather your wife and daughter take her place?” she asked.

The woman tried to scream against the gag so Ojo tightened his grip. Lady Ecsed stared the driver in the eyes intensely without flinching.

“Do it,” she commanded.

The Jeep driver closed his eyes and sliced the blade through the neck. Señora Ecsed, just as quickly, pushed him out of the way and covered the wound with her mouth. Ojo held the woman tighter as Lady Ecsed tightly wrapped her arms around the women. The Jeep driver tried to look away but Ojo released one of his hands to drew his gun. He put it to the driver’s head.

“No. You did it so you get look,” he said.

The woman tried to struggle but she was held firmly in place. Lady Ecsed looked up at Ojo, her eyes smiling with delight. He looked down at his goddess and smiled, happy he could serve her so well. The struggling slowed and then stopped as life faded away. Lady Ecsed sucked down nearly every last heart beat and stumbled back a few steps. She shivered with pleasure.

“Oh, my. Oh that one was sooo sweet,” she said and wiped her lips with her forearm.

She smiled broadly and looked at Ojo with joy.

“She was unspoiled by man. That was a lovely surprise. Give the man who found her a $5,000 bonus,” said Lady Ecsed, licking the stray blood from her fingers.

She turned to the Jeep driver and pointed at him. She felt giddy and almost lost her balance.

“Now take the rest of your men, find this skull woman and either bring her to me or find out where she is hiding. If you fail your family will be my next meal,” she said.

Ojo holstered his gun as the Jeep driver left with his men.

“You think they'll catch her?” asked Ojo.

“No. But they can serve as bait and flush her out,” she replied, licking the blood from her hands and fingers.

She pounced on the dying woman again, sucking down more blood. After a minute she forced herself to pull away and fell back onto the floor. She smiled, closed her eyes and hugged herself.

“Ummm. She is the sweetest I’ve tasted in a long time,” she said.

“She’s probably not empty. I can have her hung over your bed so she can drip out the rest.” said Ojo.

Lady Ecsed opened her eyes and got to her feet. After thinking it over it for a minute…

“How nice of you, my Ojo. But I just don’t have the time to enjoy that properly. Have what is left drained out and chilled it for me,” she said.

“As you command, mi amor.” said Ojo.

Lady Ecsed turned and walked away. She lifted her arms and giggled to herself, feeling the pure young life course through her body.

Chapter 10: Don't Mind if I Get Broken

It was the witching hour. Halloween was over and the quiet of the night would have been pierced by the tolls of church bells, but the ropes had rotted away long ago. The Rio Blanca streets were mostly empty this time of night, though the occasional person walking about was not uncommon. No one took much notice of the two men, drunkenly hanging on each other, singing badly, and forcing their voices into the silence.

“Y volver, volver, volveeeeeeeer!” they sung loudly into the quiet night.

No one would approach these men or chastise them for disturbing the evening because they were servants of La Muerte. It would have been a quiet night for them too if not for turning the wrong corner. On every block, there was an idol of Santa Muerte, an image of death made up in the same manner of the Virgin of Guadalupe. Her skull face looked out though the black robes. Every servant of La Muerte wore a pendant of this image. The men would normally just walk by one of these idols to their mistress, and maybe pour out a bit of what they were drinking at her feet as a sign of their respect and reverence. They would normally do this but this idol was on fire.

“What the... La Señora... La Muerte… She… She’s gonna be pissed,” said one, staggering backwards a step.

“Yeah,” said the other, unsure of what to do.

Ximena appeared behind them.

“That's the point,” she said.

The men were surprised but slow in their current state. Sluggishly they turned around in time for both of them be met with a reverse roundhouse kick. Ximena spun, extending her leg backwards, and used her heel to hammer the heads of both men in one sweep, making both of them unconscious for the rest of the night. Ximena crouched over one of them and reached out to touch his head just as a van pulled up. Armed men streamed out from the side of the van including the Jeep Driver.

“Hey puta. You stole my jeep,” said the Jeep driver.

Ximena calmly stood up and turned to face her adversaries.

“And?” she asked.

“Shoot her!” yelled the Jeep Driver.

All the men drew their guns and begin firing. Clips were emptied, forcing Ximena to fall to her knees. Her clothing had become sufficiently tattered to see bullet holes scattered throughout her body. Then she got back on her feet as if uninjured and her wounds began closing up. She charged the men before they reloaded and in the melee took down several with punches and kicks. Some got back up before she could finish with the others so she kept fighting. A smile began to creep over Ximena’s face.

“You guys gotta cut this out, I'm beginning to like it,” she said.

Knives were employed when guns ran out of ammo. Some of the men managed to reload and resume their gunfire. None of it worked. Some accidentally killed each other. The rest begin to run away. She reached behind her back to remove a knife that was stuck in one of her ribs and dropped it on the ground.

“Fuck. That one really hurt,” said Ximena.

The jeep driver, reloaded his gun again and limped backwards, firing at Ximena.

“Will you just die!” he shouted at her.

His last bullets were spent as Ximena closed the distance and grabbed his gun. She took it out of his hand and tossed it down the street. Then she jammed her knee into his stomach.

“I tried already. It didn't quite take,” she said.

He pulled another gun from behind his back but Ximena grabbed it before he could point it. Another gunman approached Ximena from behind and emptied an assault rifle in her back. Some of the rounds passed through her and into the Jeep driver. She dropped him, turned around, and shot the rifleman in the head. She turned back to the Jeep Driver who was bleeding out on the ground.

“Get. Get away... from me,” he said weakly.

Ximena took a knee next to him and touched his head. She could see him in his home, arguing with his wife, who was holding a baby. They spoke in Spanish but she could understand.

“Why can't you quit?” his wife begged.

“Because I can't quit. They'll kill me,” he replied.

“You should have stayed a cop. But no, you wanted more money!” she told him.

“We needed more money, and if I was still cop I would be dead anyway,” he replied.

Ximena broke contact and looked down at him. She didn’t know all the circumstances that led him here, but now it was not so easy to see him as just a thug.

“I'm sorry,” she said.

“You... go to hell,” he told her.

He pulled a knife and stabbed it into her side. It hurt. Everything still hurt. But less and less, Ximena reacted to pain. She calmly stood and stared at him as he passed away. She pulled the knife out of her side and dropped it. The pity she felt vanished as quickly as the pain.

“I really wanted to feel sorry for you but you had to go and ruin it,” she said.

Ximena walked back to the still passed out drunk men to read their thoughts.

She got images of a semi waiting in a warehouse in the next town over. It was going to come to Rio Blanca. Ximena quickly planned her next move.

Ojo closed his cell phone and smiled.

“Her again?” asked La Muerte, as she mounted a skull on her wall.

“Yeah,” said Ojo.

“Anyone survive?” she asked.

“A few,” he replied.

“Good help is so hard to find these days,” she said.

She took the skull of the wall and mounted it in a different spot.

“Are you sure they knew about the truck?” she asked.

“Yes, my Lady. They were the last two of Lozano’s men in our ranks. Their whole purpose was to let the old man’s trucks get though our territory without us knowing,” he said.

She considered the skulls position on the wall among the many others. She listened to Ojo and marveled at his ability to get information. But she would never show a servant admiration.

“Perfect,” she said with a smile, looking at the skull. “Take some men into town. Let’s see what she does next.”

“Yes, my Lady,” said Ojo.

“Where is our inside man right now?” asked Señora Ecsed.

“Last I heard, con las migras at the border,” said Ojo.

“Call in a tip about the truck,” she said.

The semi raced down the dark road to Rio Blanca. Up ahead two headlights approached.

“That a car?” wondered the driver.

Ximena floored the gas of the jeep and turned on the high beams. The driver tried to swerve out of the way but Ximena kept her aim. She stood on the seat and used the top of the windshield to vault over the wreck just before impact. Her momentum carried her through the semi's windshield and all the way into the sleeper section of the cab. The semi driver nearly lost control when the jeep smashed into the truck. He managed screech his rig to a halt. He looked back into the sleeper to see what hit his truck. Ximena popped out.

“Boo,” she told him.

He was frozen in shock.

“I need your truck,” she said.

The driver opened the door and ran away. Ximena jumped in the driver’s seat and floored the gas. When she got the truck a few miles down the road, Ximena pulled over to the shoulder. She got out and ran to the back of the trailer with a flashlight.

“No te preocupes! Soy una amiga!” she shouted.

Ximena popped the latch and opened the doors. No one was in there. She found herself staring at boxes. She climbed into the trailer and tried to look past all the boxes but saw that they went all the way to the front. She ripped open the side of one of the boxes and saw what looked like large bricks wrapped in trash bags and duct tape.

“Fantastic,” she said to herself.

The crow landed on the trailer door and cawed.

“Any other bright ideas?” she asked it.

It cawed again. At the Border, an Agent walked into the office where Ranger Paulson and Agent Elizondo were talking.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said. “We just got a van full of college kids roll in. They’re all in rough shape. They said they were kidnapped and a woman in black with a painted face rescued them. We also got a call about a semi carrying drugs being jacked and heading for Rio Blanca.”

“Here we go,” said Elizondo.

Ojo stood in the dim beams of the street lights. Several armed men and trucks line the streets. One of the men approached Ojo.

“A truck's coming,” he said.

“Good. Keep her busy,” said Ojo.

Ojo got into his own truck and left, leaving the men to walk around nervously. The sound of the semi-truck in the distance broke through the silence. When it got close enough the men began firing at the semi. Inside, Ximena did her best to duck the bullets. She needed to keep her course. The semi sped through the street forcing gunmen to jump out of the way. It slammed into the line of trucks that brought the gunmen into town. The last truck in line caught a telephone pole forcing the semi to vault over the wrecks and jackknife onto its side. The men ran up to it and fired point blank into the cab. When they stopped to reload, the crow landed on the semi and cawed. Ximena kicked out the remnants of the windshield and stepped out. She reached into a hole on the side of her jaw and pulled a smashed bullet out. She tossed to the ground and the stunned gunmen watched as the hole closed up. Her other multiple wounds also began to heal.

“You guys sure know how to make a girl feel welcome,” she said.

They just stared at her blankly. Ximena grabbed the barrel of the nearest rifle. She yanked the man towards her and clotheslined him, flipping him to the ground. She ripped the gun from his hand and shot him. She shot and killed two more of the gunmen before the rest ran away into the darkness.

“Aw, come on guys. We were having so much fun,” said Ximena.

The street was silent again.

“That's all the action I get? I didn't return from the dead for nothing!” shouted Ximena.

Ximena aimed at a Santa Muerte idol on the sidewalk and emptied the rest of the clip. The idol split in half and collapsed.

Chapter 11: Alighing Against You

The Lady Ecsed sat on the edge of an expensive wooden desk of an equally expensive looking office. Behind the desk sat Enrique Lozano, her rival. This grand house was his. It was one town over from Rio Blanca and served as a local headquarters when the cartel head was visiting. Lozano was an older gentleman who had trouble walking and seldom left his homes other than to move on to the next one. Three of his body guards were present for the meeting. There was a knock at the door and a servant stepped in.

“Señor, Ojo esta aquí,” said the woman.

Her eyes and head stayed focused on the floor. She’d heard rumors of La Señora Ecsed stealing souls and drinking blood. Even though the servant was in her master’s house, she was still afraid. Lozano took a mental note.

“Let him in,” Lozano replied.

The servant opened the door and Ojo stepped in.

“Buenos noches Señor Lozano,” said Ojo.

Lozano nodded his head.

“Señora Ecsed said you would have some news for me,” said the old man.

“The woman has stolen one of your trucks,” replied Ojo.

Lozano had no reaction.

“Where is she now?” asked Ecsed.

“She was heading into the town. We have men there to greet her,” he replied.

Ximena stood beside the wrecked rig. One of the fuel tanks was damaged and leaking. She found a empty beer bottle and filled it with the leaking gas. She stuffed a rag into the bottle and noticed one of the remaining gunmen trying to crawl away. Ximena put the beer bottle on the ground and walked calmly to the man. She grabbed him by the back of his collar, dragged him, and leaned him against a telephone pole.

“Hablas Ingles?” she asked.

The man spit blood in her face.

“Fuck you, puta,” he said.

“And that is a yes,” said Ximena.

She dabbed the blood on her face with her sleeve.

“How about we try being civil?” she asked.

“I ain't telling you nothin, bitch,” he replied.

Ximena shrugged and reached for his belt buckle.

“Which testicle shall we lose first? Right or left?” she asked.

Before he could answer, a cellphone started ringing in the man's pocket. He tried to get it but was too slow. Ximena wrenched it out of his hand. She stood and put a boot on his neck.

“Looks like fate needith you not,” she said.

Ximena flipped open the phone.

“Hola,” she said.

Ojo's voice is on the other end.

“Hola? ¿Quién es?” he asked.

The man on the ground was struggling to speak with the boot on his neck.

“Cut it out. I’m on the phone,” she told him.

Then she cleared her throat and spoke into the phone.

“I'm a little busy right now. Are you another pawn for the witch?” she asked.

“Something like that,” replied Ojo.

The man on the ground kept struggling and tried to move her foot with this hands. Ximena pulled back her foot and kicked him in the face, knocking him out.

“Well, unless you have something important to say, hand the phone over to the lady in charge,” she said.

“You’re gonna find out who’s in charge real quick,” replied Ojo.

“You know what, never mind,” said Ximena.

Ximena kicked the man on the ground, waking him, then dropped the phone onto the dying man's lap.

“Talk to your boy,” she commanded.

She walked away and began to pat down one of the bodies.

“Gringa. Hey gringa!” Ojo yelled from the phone.

She pulled a lighter out of one of the pockets.

“Gringa? What the hell, just because I don’t speak Spanish?” Ximena asked.

“Ojo. Ojo…” said the man, trying to speak.

He passed out before completing his sentence. Ximena picked up her Molotov cocktail, lit it, and tossed it into the cab of the semi and walked away. The crow flew over her head and cawed.

“Yeah, I know could have just lit it on fire but… Shut up,” she told the bird.

Then she walked down the street using the lighter to set any Santa Muerte idols she found on fire. Back at Lozano’s home, Ojo closed his phone. Lozano was just sitting there, acting indifferent.

“Was that her?” asked Lozano.

“Si. She just took out some more of our men and I can guarantee you won't get your truck back,” replied Ojo.

“How do I know it was one of mine?” asked Lozano.

“Wasn't one of ours,” replied Ojo.

“See, Enrique? We have a mutual problem,” said Ecsed.

Lozano opened a small box on his desk and took out a cigar.

“Well, Erzsébet. From where I stand this woman is your problem,” said the old man.

Her eye twitched slightly. Lozano chuckled.

“I know who you are. Or at least, I know who you pretend to be,” said Lozano.

Señora Ecsed could not hide the annoyance on her face. She did not appreciate a man, who she deemed a low life, actually having some intelligence, let alone knowing something she was not ready to reveal.

“Don’t worry, Señora. I won’t use your name against you,” he said.

Not yet was implied.

“In fact this woman appears to be doing me a favor since you stole this territory from me,” he continued.

Señora Ecsed shrugged. She let her annoyance fade and decided to modify her plans for Lozano.

“Maybe. But after me, where would it end? She did kill some of your men already,” she replied.

He picked up his cigar cutter and snipped the tip off his Cuban.

“Ah, yes. The ones with the bird painted on them,” he said.

Lozano motioned to his nearest bodyguard. The man pulled out a lighter and lit the cigar. Lozano took a puff.

“I'm sure she was solely responsible,” said Lozano, skeptically.

“Who else could it have been? She struck against your men twice now. She will do it again,” said Ecsed, innocently.

The old man wasn’t so sure. But having a vigilante running about the territory he wanted to retake might encourage others.

“It's possible. So... What do you want?” he asked.

“I propose a truce. You help me get rid of her and I stop interfering with your business. I’ll even end my expansion,” offered Señora Ecsed.

Lozano laughed.

“You must be desperate to come to me like this. I could just as easily let her take you apart so I can pick up your pieces,” said the old man.

She laid down across the desk and propped her head up.

“If we stop attacking each other, even for a little while, maybe we can keep the Army from interfering with us both,” she said.

“You heard about that?” he asked.

It had been a growing concern. There were rumors that The Mexican Army was preparing to deploy into the area to stamp out the drug war.

“I have my sources,” she replied.

He considered the proposal, weighing whether or not it would make it any easier to kill the woman later and take her territory.

“A truce then,” said Lozano.

He picked up his phone and dialed.

“Soto. We are working with La Señora Ecsed... for now. Find out more about this woman who is giving her so many problems,” he said into his phone.

Lozano hung up and tossed the phone on the desk.

“You should come to Rio Blanca when this is done, as my guest,” said La Señora.

“You know I don't leave my houses,” said Lozano.

“I know,” she replied.

He took a long puff of his cigar and blew it out.

“You should know, gringa, it is insulting how you let the people call you La Muerte. She is not just a costume you can use to gain favor,” he said.

The witch smiled as she sat up. She slid of his desk, bent down, and acted out of breath.

“Are you ok?” asked Lozano.

“I'm ok. Ojo can you help me please,” she replied.

“Si, mi amor,” said Ojo.

Ojo moved to his goddess. She put an arm on Ojo's shoulder and Ojo put an arm on her back behind her cloak. Quickly Ojo pulled away from Señora Ecsed with a silenced pistol in his hand. He shot Lozano's bodyguards before they could react. Lozano stumbled out of his chair and backed against the wall.

“How did you get that in here?” he asked.

Señora Ecsed smiled.

“Easy. I knew your pig men would focus too much on my womanly parts. I had the gun on strapped to my back.” she replied.

She slowly approached Lozano and pulled a knife, also hidden on her back.

“They were not worthy to touch me and deserved more pain in death but indulging them was a necessary risk. If they had bothered to search more than my chest and between my legs maybe they could have saved you,” she said.

“You won't survive this,” said Lozano.

“Yes I will,” said Señora Ecsed.

She place the blade against his throat.

“I let the people call me La Muerte because I am death,” she said.

She quickly slashed Lozano's throat and moved in to suck on his blood. As Lozano slumped to the ground, she moved with him. When she had what she needed, she stood up and began to cough and gag.

“Are you okay, mi amor?” asked Ojo.

She was dry heaving, and cringing.

“I'm fine,” she said after controlling her gag reflex.

She pointed at Lozano's body.

“That tasted vile. Hand me the phone please,” she said.

Ojo picked up Lozano's phone and handed it to Señora Ecsed. She dialed and began speaking with Lozano's voice.

“Soto. I changed my mind. Get all the men ready. We are going to stamp this problem out,” she said in the old man’s voice.

Undecipherable speaking came from the phone.

“Yes I'm sure! Give Señora Ecsed anything she asks for and never question me again,” she said.

Señora Ecsed hung up and spat out some of the blood. Her normal voice returned.

“That aftertaste is going to linger,” she said.

“If you need to cleanse you pallet, we have another unspoiled girl in stock,” said Ojo.

She smiled.

“Thank goodness. Have it brought to me,” she said, sighing. “We need to get things going. Call your Border Patrol source.”

Chapter 12: Storm the House

Sister Sarah walked out of the shadows. She looked at the burning semi and dead bodies then walked up to the nearest dead man. She picked up his weapon, checked the ammunition in the clip, slung the rifle, and collected any extra magazines she could find. She quickly searched through the small war zone, collecting all the arms and ammunition she could find. Anything she could not carry was hidden behind a dumpster in an alley. She withdrew from the street when she heard the sounds of trucks approaching. Two police pickups loaded with armed police stopped in the middle of the carnage. An unmarked suburban also stopped. Ranger Paulson and Agent Elizondo got out with other police.

“There's no turning back now is there?” asked Elizondo.

The Ranger looked at the surrounding chaos.

“No. Not anymore,” he replied.

Agent Elizondo's cell phone rang.

“Yes sir,” he answered.

There was a voice on the other side that could not be heard.

“Yes sir it's pretty bad. No, I think if we… Yes. I understand,” said the Agent into the phone.

Then he hung up.

“The Army?” asked the Ranger.

“Yeah. They're on their way,” replied Elizondo.

Elizondo's phone rang again. He stared at the phone number for a few seconds before he answered.

“Yeah?” he asked into the phone.

Another voice was on the opposite end. To Paulson it sounded female.

“Are you sure?” Elizondo asked into the phone.

“Okay, we’ll be there.” he said and hung up.

“Good news?” asked Paulson.

“Depends. We got a tip. I can't talk about it here, but I think you should come along,” said Elizondo.

Back at the church in Rio Blanca, Father Suarez stared out of his window. He shook his head at the glowing firelight coming from the center of town. His sorrow was interrupted by noises coming from inside the chapel. Someone was in there. He went to see who it was and then stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Sister Sara, laying out various rifles on top of the altar and sorting the ammunition.

“Sister, I was getting worried,” he said.

The nun continued to sort the arms without acknowledging the head of the parish.

“Do you think this is necessary?” Father Suarez asked.

She gave him a, what do you think, stare and went back to her work.

“Are those from where the fire is?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Is it bad?” he asked.

She nodded again.

A black SUV slowly pulled up to the front of Lozano's home. The gate was open and there didn’t appear to be anyone around. The trucked stopped in front of the house and Elizondo, Paulson, and three other Federales got out and drew their guns.

“Juan, you sure about this. Doesn't look like anyone's here,” asked Paulson.

“Yeah, I'm sure,” Elizondo replied.

Gunfire from the dark took out the Federales. Elizondo and Paulson crouched next to the SUV for cover.

“What do you think?’ Elizondo asked.

Before Paulson could answer, an armored truck plowed through the fence. A gunner fired on them from a turret on top of the truck.

“I think it's too late to say it's a trap,” said Paulson

He looked around the corner of the SUV to see if they had an opening to run. Then Elizondo hit Paulson on the back of his head, knocking him out. Paulson woke with is head hurting and the realization that he was tied to a chair. He was placed in front of the desk in what was once Lozano’s office.

“Were you impressed by El Monstruo? Lozano’s men got creative and had this truck built as a symbol of power. Seems like a product of typical male ego driven by insecurity, but it does appear to have its uses,” said Señora Ecsed.

“Where's Elizondo?” asked Paulson.

“I’m here, Roy,” said Elizondo, walking up to Señora Ecsed and standing beside her.

“Juan? What's going on?” asked the Ranger.

“Sorry, Roy. I didn't have a choice,” said Elizondo.

Paulson had no words.

“Ranger Roy Paulson,” said Señora Ecsed, holding his badge in her hand. “Juan has been one of mine for a while now.”

“Juan? This doesn't make any sense,” said Paulson.

“Like he said. He didn't have a choice,” said Señora Ecsed.

“You told me I would get her back if I brought him in,” said Elizondo.

“Get who back?” asked Paulson.

“His wife,” replied La Señora.

Señora Ecsed wiped her hands up over her face and hair transforming herself into Elizondo's wife.

“Hello my love,” she said to Elizondo in the voice of his wife.

“Sofia? Is that really you?” he asked, his eyes getting teary.

Paulson was stunned. He’d never believed in magic. But there was no way to explain the transformation he just saw.

“Of course it's me. Come closer,” she said.

“Juan! Don't do it!” yelled Paulson.

Agent Elizondo stepped close to his wife. They kissed and hugged.

“I thought I'd lost you,” he said to her.

Sofia reached behind her back and pulled out a knife just out of sight of Elizondo. Paulson was about to yell a warning but Ojo gagged him from behind. Sofia stared into Elizondo's eyes.

“You did lose me,” she said.

She moved the knifed hand behind his head and jammed the blade into the back of Elizondo's head. He fell to the floor. Paulson tried to scream and struggle violently against his restraints. Sofia licked her knife clean.

“You know, for a man, he doesn't taste half bad. His wife was so much sweeter though,” she said.

Paulson struggled to say something.

“When your friend is found dead, the Army will be all too willing to help me burn everything down,” said Señora Ecsed as Sofia.

She sat on Paulson's lap and transformed herself back into Señora Ecsed. Ojo held the Ranger's head back. She played with Paulson's hair and leaned in to smell his neck. She made a small scratch on his neck with the knife and licked the blood that seeped out. Ojo laughed.

“You know, you don't taste that bad for a man either. But…” she said, standing up. “We have a schedule to keep.”

Señora Ecsed walked out of Lozano's office with Ojo.

“Get Hijo, and go to the church,” she told Ojo.

“The church?” asked Ojo.

“You will find her there,” she said.

Ojo looked confused.

“Ojo, you may be my eyes, but I know people’s hearts,” she said.

“What do I do when I get there?” he asked.

“Tell her there is a truck on my hilltop needing rescue. Leave Hijo to keep her busy. I'll take care of the rest,” said Señora Ecsed.

“What about the Ranger?” asked Ojo.

“He'll be fine here,” she replied.

In the church, Father Suarez was kneeling before the altar, praying. Ximena walked in with the crow flying in behind her.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” she said jokingly.

The priest did the sign of the cross and stood to face Ximena. The crow landed on the altar, next to the guns.

“Why are you here?” asked Father Suarez.

“You know why,” said Ximena.

“No, I don't,” replied the priest “Why do you keep coming back to this church. You don't want my advice, you don't listen to me, so why do you keep coming?”

“I don't know. I guess I just like your company,” she replied, honestly.

“I know you’re not looking for me to convince you to stop killing,” he said.

“No, not at all. Vengeance from the grave has grown on me,” said Ximena.

“Clearly,” responded the Priest.

Sister Sarah walked by and began laying out more weapons. She looked at Ximena and rolled her eyes with a head shake. Then she started to perform function checks on the rifles. She waved a hand at the crow to get it off her guns. It just stepped aside.

“What's her problem?” asked Ximena.

“You. Or more accurately, all the trouble you stir up,” he replied.

Sister Sarah shook her head and began disassembling the rifles and putting back them together one by one when she was satisfied with what she saw. The crow cawed.

“Well I'm sorry to say that I'm far from done stirring,” said Ximena.

“Then your trip to the dark side is on schedule,” said the priest.

“What's the saying? Never underestimate its power,” she said.

“So much for the peaceful woman,” he replied.

“I was never given the option of peace,” she countered.

Father Suarez looked even more annoyed.

“No amount of killing will stop any of this! Even if you kill Señora Ecsed, someone else will pick up where she left off,” he said.

Ximena looked over at Sarah and the guns.

“You want to tell that to your nun,” she said.

The priest looked at the nun preparing the guns. Sarah stopped for a moment and began signing angrily.

“What is she saying?” asked Ximena.

“She wanted me to clarify. She doesn’t have a problem with you killing the witch, she just wishes you would get on with it already and stop screwing around. Or she’ll have to finish it for you,” said the priest.

“Really?” asked Ximena.

“I paraphrased. I won’t say aloud her exact words,” he replied.

“A cussing nun who wants to kill,” said Ximena with a laugh. “You need to keep her on a tighter leash.”

“I am not her keeper. She may have chosen to be a servant of God, but she is not bound to any vows,” said the Priest.

Ximena looked confused.

“Do you mind clarifying that?” she asked.

Father Suarez looked back at Sister Sarah.

“Sister, do I have your permission?” he asked.

Sarah, not looking up, waved her hand in a dismissive and somewhat approving fashion.

“I believe she said yes,” said the priest.

“So what's her deal?” asked Ximena.

“Sister Sarah isn't really a nun,” he said.

“You don't say,” said Ximena, sarcastically.

“I found her dying in an alley some years back in Tijuana. Her throat was slashed and she was barely alive,” he said.

Ximena looked at Sarah. Sarah, still not looking up from her guns, pulled her collar down slightly revealing a part of the scar underneath.

“What happened?” asked Ximena.

“I don't know. She never said. To anyone,” said Father Suarez.

Sarah loudly pulled and released the charging handle on one of the rifles causing Father Suarez to glance back at her in annoyance.

“What I know is that she was a U.S. Marine. I assume she was on leave with friends and got separated,” he said.

Sarah began loading shells into a shotgun. Father Suarez looked back at Ximena.

“I carried her to a police station and then went with her to a hospital. I left when they said she would be okay. I didn't think I'd see her again,” he said.

“So, how did she get here?” asked Ximena.

Sarah began arranging magazines and pouches on a vest of body armor.

“Wish I knew. A few months later she showed up and refused to leave. Next thing I know she started wearing the habits of nuns long since gone. Albeit with a few alterations,” he said.

Sarah loudly pulled and released the charging handle on another rifle.

“I protested, but she just took up residence. Stubborn Jarhead. I don’t get much support out here so I just let her be. Now everyone thinks she is a nun. So, here she is,” he said.

The crow flew off the altar and cawed wildly. The doors to the church kicked open. Ojo and Hijo walked in.

“Greetings, amigos,” said Ojo.

Ximena got ready to pounce while Sarah stepped around the altar with a rifle up and at the ready. Father Suarez stood without fear.

“Leave this house. You are not welcome.” he said.

“We don't need permission to come or go. Anyway, La Señora wanted me to give you a message,” said Ojo.

“Which is?” asked Ximena.

“She wants to see how good you are. There is a truck on the tallest hill outside of town in the middle of nowhere. The people in the trailer will die unless you can save them,” said Ojo.

“That simple?” asked Ximena.

“Well, you got 15 minutes to get there before the truck disappears. And you got to get through him to leave this church,” said Ojo.

Hijo stepped forward.

“Adios amigos, and good luck,” said Ojo.

He turned and walked out of the church.

“Sarah? Would you be a dear?” asked Ximena.

Sarah fired three shots. Each connected center mass and passed clean through Hijo. He just stood there and stared.

“Any other bright ideas?” asked Father Suarez.

“Yeah, get him,” said Ximena.

Ximena rushed Hijo with Sarah close behind. Hijo spun a rapid kick, sending Ximena crashing through the pews. Sara dodged Ximena’s body and tried to land a kick of her own but Hijo sidestepped and caught her leg. He swung her up and tossed Sara over Ximena and into the church wall.

“Any other bright ideas?” asked the priest again.

“Get to the truck! I'll hold him off,” Ximena yelled Sarah.

Sara got up and ran past the alter grabbing a rifle and the vest. As she ran for the back door, Hijo tried to pursue but Ximena blocked his path. They traded blows as Sara disappeared outside. Hijo managed to grab Ximena by her throat with his gloved hand. Ximena reached for Hijo's throat but could not reach. Then she grabbed his arm and made contact with his bare skin. Then she saw a vision.

It looked like the lab in a university. Hijo was strapped down on a laboratory table, screaming. Señora Ecsed was sitting on top of him, carving into his chest with a scalpel, smiling. The vision flashed to Hijo standing over an open grave. A crow landed on his shoulder.

She snapped back to reality as Hijo tossed her, sending her into the large wooden cross behind the altar, splitting it in half. Ximena was knocked out cold. The crow swooped over Hijo's head and he snatched it out of the air. Hijo walked to the alter to finish Ximena but Father Suarez stepped in the way.

“Leave her be. In the name of God, I command you to leave this place now,” ordered the priest.

Hijo maintained a blank stare as he turned around and walked away.

Chapter 13: Your Tired and Your Wicked

Señora Ecsed's men stood watch on a lonely hill, keeping an eye on a semi-truck. The trailer was filled with men and women who paid to cross the border. Sister Sara expertly made her way through the brush without a sound. She held the silenced assault rifle close to her body as she maneuvered closer. Yelling came from inside the trailer in Spanish.

“Let us out!” shouted a man’s voice.

“Let us out! We can’t breathe!” yelled a woman.

One of the gunmen walked up to the trailer and hit it with the butt of his rifle.

“Callate! You'll get out when you get out.” he replied.

Sara took aim at a gunman relieving himself away from the others. These guards were not being very quiet and the muffled thump of her rifle went unheard. The man collapsed into the shadows of the night unnoticed. Sarah silently stalked in the shadows, moving nearer to the back of the trailer where the other two men were standing.

Back in the church, Ximena came to. Father Suarez was sitting next to her.

“That was... interesting,” she said.

“I didn't know you could get knocked out?” he replied.

“Yeah, neither did I. Sarah?” she asked.

“She made it out. And the big one took your bird,” he said.

“Which explains my nap. That is going to be a problem,” she said.

Ximena looked at the door.

“I need to get out there,” she said.

“He's like you, isn't he?” Father Suarez asked.

Ximena looked at the priest.

“Yeah. He's just like me,” she replied.

“And he works for her?” he asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” said Ximena.

“Then I'm going with you,” said the priest.

“No. You can still die. I go alone,” she said.

On the dark hilltop, none of the gunmen knew they were being stalked.

“Donde está La Muerte?” asked one.

“She'll be here, calm down,” said another.

“Yeah, well. She better. I don’t like it out here,” was the reply.

Sarah readied herself. She stepped out of the darkness with her rifle already raised and the buttstock tucked firmly into her shoulder. Her thumb smoothly turned the safety switch to semi, and she began firing. She dropped two of the gunmen before the others knew what's going on. She killed the last two as they raised their weapons. She scanned the area for movement then backed herself to the trailer. She needed to check on the people inside so she reached for the door latch with her left hand. Her head shifted to the trailer for only a second.

There was a loud bang and something smashed into her body armor, just below her chest. It knocked her back against the cold metal of the trailer. The violent impact forced all the air out her lungs and she almost lost her grip on the rifle. For a few seconds she forgot how to breathe and was near panic. She began to recover when another shot hit her chest, slamming her back again. Her body armor saved her from the two metal shotgun slugs, but it was now shattered and nearly useless. She fell to the ground and her hand lost its grip on her weapon. Sarah turned and clawed at whatever grip she could find to pick herself up. Her chest hurt. It felt like someone used a sledge hammer on her. Another slug hit her square on her back, throwing her into the trailer again, this time face first. Again, her body armor took the brunt of the punishment and saved her life, but the impact still punched painfully hard. She managed to get to her feet and leaned back against the trailer. Staying up took everything she had.

“Hello, sister,” said Señora Ecsed, stepping out of the darkness.

Ojo stepped out of the shadows holding a shotgun. Other men followed.

“Take her,” commanded the witch.

Hijo charged out of the dark. Sarah could not fight him at full strength, and here she was, badly battered. She still tried but he was too fast. Hijo punched Sarah in the chest, throwing her back into the trailer. He hit almost as hard at the shotgun blasts and her broken armor did nothing to help her. He hit her again and she felt like her bones were fracturing under every blow. Hijo pulled his fist back and paused. Sarah barely managed to stay on her feet. Hijo adjusted his stance, twisted his torso, and pointed his fist more outward.

“Roundhouse,” Sarah thought to herself, calling the next punch.

Though she knew what was coming, she had nothing left in her to duck or block. Almost in slow motion she watched as Hijo threw the punch, his fist moving in a viciously powerful arc at her face. The hit was too fast for Sarah to even register pain. When her body was twisting and falling to the ground, she was already out cold. Sarah woke to the pounding pain in her head that hit with every beat of her heart. Her body armor was gone, not that it could do anything else for her, and she realized her hands and feet were tied to something. As her consciousness steadily returned, she found herself strapped to a cross on the ground.

“I'm glad you wore body armor. You will be alive to savor the pain,” said Señora Ecsed.

Sarah weakly struggled against the ropes.

“Don't bother,” said La Señora.

Sarah could hear the roaring, popping, and crackling sounds of fire. She also heard voices screaming. She managed to raise her head just enough to see the trailer engulfed in flames. Her head dropped back down with tears forming in her eyes.

“Don't be so sad, Sister. This isn’t your fault. Little miss dead girl was supposed to come to the rescue. I may have let them go if she got the trailer open but she sent you instead. The ones in the trailer will pay the price for her poor decisions. And since she is not here to receive the pain of her penance, you will have to do. Nail her down,” said Señora Ecsed.

Ojo pulled a hammer and metal spikes from his jacket. Then he knelt on Sarah’s arm. She felt the tip of the spike on her wrist. She tried to pull her arm away but she was too weak. She saw Ojo’s arm raise the hammer high as another man knelt by her head and held her mouth closed. Sarah clenched her jaw and tightened her lips. The hammer fell. As much as she did not want to give anyone the satisfaction of her agony, pain like lightning ripping into her wrist was too much for her. She could not speak but she could scream. Every hit of the hammer rang the pain through her again and again.

“You know. I forgot you don't talk. I wanted to hear you beg. Such a pity,” said Señora Ecsed.

The nodded to Ojo and Sarah’s crucifixion continued with her other wrist and then her feet. With every hammer fall, and in spite of her mouth being held shut, Sarah’s pain cried out into the dark night. When it was done Ojo got up and stood at Señora Ecsed’s side. She stepped over the nun and sat, straddling Sara's hips.

“It's a shame you have that ugly scar on your neck. I mean, you are still quite stunning, but I like my pets in mint condition,” she said.

Then she laid down on top of Sarah, resting her head on the nun’s chest. Her hand reached out and plaid with Sara's hair.

“Sorry about cutting your throat by the way. I was a little hungry at the time and I needed a quick fix,” she said.

Sarah kept her head and eyes facing the sky, refusing to look at Señora Ecsed. La Señora pushed herself up and sat on Sarah’s hips again. Ojo handed her a dagger and she traced the tip of the blade across Sarah's battered neck.

“She is such a pretty picture, but I don't know, Ojo. It seems like something is missing,” she said.

“I think so too, my Lady,” said Ojo.

Señora Ecsed touched the blade to her lips.

“I got it,” she said with a wicked smile.

She jammed the dagger into Sarah's left side, below her ribs. Sarah knew the stab was coming. She clenched her teeth and willed herself to not scream. It didn’t work.

“There. Now that looks authentic,” said Señora Ecsed.

Señora Ecsed pulled the dagger out and licked the blade clean of Sarah's blood. A smile crossed her bloodstained lips.

“You are as delicious as I remember,” she said.

She could not help herself and leaned down to suck blood from the wound. When she was done she sat up and Ojo offered a hand.

“Such a waste,” said Señora Ecsed as she stood.

“If you live long enough to be rescued, tell the dead woman that if she wants her bird back then she can come and get it,” she said before turning and walking away.

“Adios,” said Ojo.

The other men converged on Sarah and lifted the cross into place so that she faced the burning truck. The pyre raged on in front of her eyes as the screams died out. The glow of flames lit the top of the hill like a beacon from hell. Ximena skidded the jeep next to the trailer. Smoke masked the hilltop so she could only see what was immediately in front of her. When she reached the back of the trailer a breeze cleared the smoke enough for Ximena to see the cross.

Father Suarez was pacing in front of the altar when the front doors were kicked open. Ximena rushed in carrying Sarah.

“My God!” said the priest.

“Keep praying, she isn't dead yet,” said Ximena.

Ximena gently placed Sarah on the altar.

“What did they do to her?” he asked.

“Isn't it obvious,” she replied.

The priest covered his mouth when he recognized the wounds and realized horror that was brought down on his friend and mocked his faith. But he only let the shock last for a moment.

“There’s an emergency kit in my room,” he said.

Ximena rushed to get is as Father Suarez put pressure on the wound in Sarah’s side. When Ximena returned she passed the priest a package of gauze. He placed it over the stab wound while she examined Sarah’s wrists and feet.

“No major bleeding. Looks like major blood vessels were missed,” said Ximena.

“Praise the Lord for that miracle,” said Father Suarez.

“I should have taken her to a hospital,” said Ximena as she wrapped bandages around Sarah’s wrists.

“She's better off here. The witch has people in all the nearest hospitals,” said the priest. “Keep the pressure here.”

Ximena took his place holding pressure on the stab wound. Father Suarez rolled up his sleeves and pulled out a curved needle and thread from the emergency kit.

“You’ve done this before, haven't you?” Ximena asked.

The priest let out a light chuckle.

“Maybe a few times... A long time ago. Let me take a look,” he replied.

Ximena moved her hands and the priest pulled up the red stained gauze.

“The bleeding has slowed. Might be that noting vital was touched here either,” he said.

“Another miracle?” asked Ximena.

“Or luck. But we’ll take what we can get,” he said.

He worked carefully with needle and thread, stitching the wound on Sarah's side. Ximena noticed a faded tattoo on the inside forearm of the priest. It was of a sword, crossed with lightning bolts, over a spade.

“Ex-military?” she asked.

Father looked at his tattoo, and then at Ximena.

“I did my time,” he said.

He finished the stitches and started dressing the wound. Then Ximena helped him stitch Sarah’s wrists and feet. As they finished, Mexican army trucks streamed through the center of town. The trucks stopped in the plaza in front of the church and soldiers swarmed out. Inside the church, the sounds of the trucks turned their heads. Father Suarez headed to the front doors and looked outside.

“Is that what I think it is?” asked Ximena.

“Yeah,” he replied.

Father Suarez walked back to Ximena and sat in the front pew.

“I guess you were right. I just made it worse,” she said.

“Well, to be fair, all this was probably going to happen anyway. Eventually,” he replied.

“I think your being too kind. The town is going to hell, she probably won't survive the night, and my bird is gone,” said Ximena.

Ximena felt for Sarah's pulse on her neck.

“It’s weak but she seems stable,” she said.

“Not a surprise. She’s too stubborn to die,” he said.

Ximena looked at the scar on Sarah's neck and noticed a black cord. She pulled at it and a small diamond ring appeared from underneath the nun's collar.

“She was engaged?” asked Ximena.

She touched the ring and got a flash of memory.

It was an abandoned apartment with broken windows. A young Sarah turned around.

“Eric!” she yelled with excitement and a big smile.

She ran to a man with long dark hair, dressed in black. His face was painted white with black on his lips and eyes.

Ximena snapped back out of the memory.

“I don't know. She had it when I met her,” said Father Suarez.

Ximena stepped back, confused.

“Father? Do you think we are predestined for things?” she asked.

“Yes and no. I know that God has a plan for us all. Whether or not we follow that plan is up to us,” he said.

“Does that plan ever include... You know…” said Ximena.

“Something like you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Nothing would surprise me at this point,” he replied.

Chapter 14: Their Souls Encaged

Thugs were taking turns punching Paulson when one of their phones rang.

“Si?” he asked, answering it.

Paulson tried to look up.

“Entiendo,” said the thug into the phone.

He hung up and punched Paulson. The Ranger’s head was fuzzy but he could tell that his chair was now being drug. They stopped dragging him at the top of the stairs to the basement.

“La Muerte wants you to lay low for a while,” said the thug.

Paulson had his back to the stairs and tried to look over his shoulder to see the darkness below. The thug pulled a gun and fired into Paulson's chest. Then he kicked Paulson down the staircase.

“Pinche gringo,” said the thug.

Trucks sat outside a dusty stone building. The old Spanish mission was once long abandoned. It was rumored to be haunted so very few ever went there. It was no issue for Señora Ecsed. Since she took up residence, it became known as the Black Mission. She sat on her throne with Hijo standing beside her. Ojo stood in front of her. The crow cawed inside a covered cage at her feet.

“Is it done?” asked the witch.

“It is,” said Ojo, closing his phone.

Señora Ecsed thought to herself for a moment. The crow kept cawing and she kicked the cage.

“Knock it off,” she told the bird. “Your friend will be here for you soon enough.”

“It’s a shame to waste him like this but he is too much of a liability. Last thing we need right now is the Americans sniffing around,” she said.

“Dam white boys are too much trouble,” said Ojo.

La Muerte nodded.

“Are the men in place?” she asked.

“Si, My Lady,” said Ojo.

“Make the call,” she commanded.

On a rooftop overlooking the plaza in Rio Blanca, a man stepped to the edge. He lifted an RPG on his shoulder and fired on the nearest truck.

Inside the church, Ximena and Father Suarez jumped with explosion.

“What was that?” she asked.

More explosions and gunfire erupted from outside.

“Take Sarah to the back!” shouted the priest.

Out in the street, soldiers hid behind trucks and wherever they could find cover. Men on different roof tops fired at them with guns and rockets. The priest looked through one of the windows to see fire and smoke rising from the rest of the town. Ximena got Sarah to Father Suarez bedroom and laid her on the bed. She reached again for the ring, but before she could touch it, Sarah woke and grabbed Ximena's wrist.

“I think she wants you to leave that alone,” said Father Suarez from the doorway.

Sarah released Ximena and Ximena backed off.

“Sorry. I just wanted to know who he was,” she said.

“Who?” asked the priest.

“This Eric that she knew when she was young,” said Ximena.

“How do you know about her when she was young?” he asked.

“The ring. I saw her calling this Eric guy's name,” replied Ximena.

Sarah just turned her head to the ceiling and stared up, tears welling in her eyes.

“I'd just drop it if I were you. Her secrets are hers to keep. If she wanted someone to know anything she would have said something a long time ago,” he said.

At the Black Mission, Señora Ecsed uncovered the cage with the crow. She opened the door and quickly grabbed the bird before it could react.

In the church, Ximena collapsed and screamed in pain. Her arms seemed pinned to her sides.

“What's wrong?” asked Father Suarez.

“It's the witch,” said Ximena.

She saw a vision of La Muerte through the Crow's eyes.

“Hello there. Obviously I know what you are and how to control you. So what you are going to do about it?” asked Señora Ecsed.

“What do you want?” asked Ximena.

“Oh, a lot of things. But for now all I you need to do is come for your little bird,” she replied.

Señora Ecsed squeezed the crow tighter. Ximena felt the pain.

“You are very pretty. Too bad you’re already dead,” said Señora Ecsed.

“Go to hell,” said Ximena.

La Muerte laughed and released the Crow, ending the vision. Ximena gasped for air and sat up. Father Suarez knelt at her side.

“What happened?” he asked.

“She has my bird remember? As undead as I am, it's kind of an Achilles heel. It's probably how she got control of the other one,” said Ximena.

“The one like you?” he asked.

“Yeah. I gotta go,” she replied.

Ximena stood up.

“You’re going after her? Even if she can control you?” he asked.

“Don't have much of a choice,” Ximena replied.

“Then she'll have two of you running around doing her dirty work,” said the priest.

“Well, sitting around here isn't going to do any good and I don't have a better option,” said Ximena.

Sarah started knocking on the wall close to the bed. When the priest and Ximena looked at her, she waved them over. Father Suarez sat at the edge of the bed while Ximena knelt on the floor.

“Sorry. I should have gone with you,” said Ximena.

Sarah rolled her eyes and grabbed Ximena wrist. Ximena had a vision of a young Sarah skateboarding across a rainy street. Before almost being hit by a car a man in a black trench coat ran into the street and saved her. The man turned away from her as Sarah complained about how she could have made it.

“I wish it would stop raining,” she said.

“It can't rain all the time,” said Eric.

The vision changed. Ximena sat at the edge of the bed with Sister Sarah facing her, sitting on a chair. They were in the room alone.

“What's going on?” Ximena asked.

“Sorry for all the drama, but this is the only way we could talk,” said Sarah.

“What the hell? You talk?” Ximena asked.

“No, stupid. You’re in my head,” said the nun.

Ximena looked around still confused.

“Oh. Who was that Eric guy?” she asked.

“An old friend. He came back just like you,” said Sarah.

“So you knew what I was the whole time?” Ximena asked.

“Pretty much. I also expected you to have things pretty well wrapped up by now,” said Sarah.

“Easy for you to say. I was just a lawyer before this. I'm still figuring things out,” was the response.

“Eric was just a musician,” countered Sarah.

Ximena tried to say something more but Sarah interrupted.

“Look, this isn't going to end until you do what you’re supposed to do. Stop playing around,” she said.

“So how do I finish this?” Ximena asked.

“If guns blazing won't win the game, then change the game,” Sarah replied.

Ximena was silent.

“Stop over thinking things and use your instincts. Just release your stranglehold on life and live it!” said the nun.

Sarah then got up and walked away into the darkened hall. The vision ended and Ximena snapped back into the real world. She was still kneeling next to Sarah who had lost consciousness again.

“What happened?” asked the priest.

“She changed the game,” said Ximena.

Ximena left the room without another word.

“What the hell does that mean?” asked Father Suarez.

He got up to follow Ximena but when he entered the chapel she was gone. He took a frustrated breath and walked back to Sarah.

“I don't know what you told her but…” he started to say as he entered the room.

Sarah was gone. She left a note on her bed. It read,

It's not a good day to be a bad guy.

“Crap,” said the priest.

He walked back into the church and knelt before the old iron votive stand. Only a few of the small candles were still lit. He put a new candle on the stand and lit it. Alejandro Suarez began praying for this friend and for his town. He heard someone walk up behind him. Strangely, he did not feel threatened.

“You know, my daddy used to say every man’s got a devil. And you can’t rest ’til you find him,” said the man standing behind the priest.

“Is that so?” asked Father Suarez.

“Actually, my father didn’t say that. I’m quoting someone. He was my devil. Well, one of them anyway. Funny thing, I wasn’t there when he said that,” said the man.

He knelt by Father Suarez and lit a candle.

“I worry about her too, you know,” said the man.

The priest opened his eyes and looked over at the man. He’d never seen him before but somehow he knew hum.

“You’re Eric, aren't you?” he asked.

“I was. And I still am,” said Eric.

“You just missed her,” said the priest.

“I know. But I’m not here for her,” said Eric.

Father Suarez looked puzzled.

“Did I miss something? Am I dead?” he asked.

Eric laughed.

“No. You are not dead,” he said.

“Then why are you here?” asked the priest.

“Someone somewhere thought you needed some comfort and words of wisdom. And I was available,” said Eric.

“You were available?” asked the priest.

“It’s best not to think about it too much,” said Eric. “My time is limited and honestly, I’m not entirely sure how all this works. Anyway, I’m here to let you know that your faith is recognized and appreciated,” said Eric.

Father Suarez was taken aback. Eric sensed it.

“All this had you questioning your faith. You don’t have to. This community needs your strength and compassion more than it needs the vengeance of others,” said Eric.

“You know that is a little weird coming from you, right?” asked the priest.

“I’m just the messenger. Why restless souls are allowed to come back is something I can’t answer. But I think those like me help clear the way for people who are better at helping the living. At least that is what I hope,” said Eric.

“Can you tell me if Sarah will be alright?” asked Alejandro.

“I hope so. But her life is in her hands,” said Eric.

“Will you watch over her at least?” asked Father Suarez.

“Unfortunately Sarah is not my assignment. A better angel is with her. You can tell Sarah that Shelly says hi,” said Eric.

More gunfire erupted outside. Father Suarez turned his head for a moment.

“Is this really how it must happen?” asked the priest.

When he turned his head back, Eric was gone.

Chapter 15: Forests With Ugly Spirits

That battle in front of the church raged. Caught by surprise, the Mexican Army soldiers were being cut down as they tried to find cover and return fire. Ximena walked into the middle of the street picking up two pistols from dead soldiers on the ground. With rounds passing through and around her she took a spot in the middle of the action. With arms stretched to both sides she practiced her aim at the roof tops and then brought both arms in front of her.

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five,” she counted her targets.

She brought her arms out again taking aim at different rooftops with each gun and began to fire.

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five,” she counted as each gun brought down a different target on each rooftop.

She continued firing, bringing down the rest of the shooters. Then the street fell silent. The soldiers dared to come out of their cover to see what happened. The short silence was broken by a heavy engine. The cartel's armored truck plowed through some of the army vehicles with the gunner on top of firing at whoever he saw moving. The truck turned around to make another pass and Ximena ran at it, head on. The gunner fired through her as she jumped onto the truck. She pulled the gunner out of the open hatch, threw him to the street, and then climbed in. El Monstruo stopped. The driver’s door opened and the driver fell out. Ximena climbed out and made a quick solute to the soldiers.

“Carry on,” she told them.

She walked up to El Monstruo’s former driver as he tried to crawl away. She stepped on his back, pinning him down and then touched his head. She got a flash of Lozano's home and saw Señora Ecsed.

“Kill the ranger and get into town. I want your men set up before the Army gets there. When they’re almost done you finish them off,” she told the driver.

Ximena ended the vision.

“Thanks for making that easy,” she said.

Ximena patted him on the back and walked away. In the church, Father Suarez was cleaning up the bed. He heard a noise from the chapel and went to investigate. Ojo was there with two men.

“Both of them are gone. You’ll have to look elsewhere,” said Father Suarez.

“Is okay Padre. You will do just fine. Get him,” Ojo Commanded.

The men tried to grab the priest by his arms. He dodged and grabbed each by their wrists, twisted and brought both men to their knees.

“This isn't necessary. If you really want me to go with you, all you have to do is ask,” he said.

“Well then, Father, after you,” said Ojo.

Father Suarez released the men and they fell to the floor in pain. He walked out of the church with Ojo behind. In the basement of Lozano’s home, Ranger Paulson woke gasping for air. He was laying on his side still tied to the broken chair. The Ranger managed to free his right arm and reached into his shirt to pull out his badge. There was a bullet lodged in it. Paulson made his way out of the restraints and got to his feet. He sighed before making his way up the stairs. Opening the door, Paulson surprised a guard walking by. He smashed the guard into the wall and threw him down into the basement. The man’s gun had fallen to the floor so the Ranger took it and cautiously walked down the hall. He ambushed three more men in a dining room, shooting them.

“Don't move, gringo!” someone shouted from behind him.

“Dam,” he said to himself.

When Paulson turned around, three armed men were behind the Ranger.

“Come on guys, we can talk about this,” he said.

They took aim just as the armored truck crashed through the doors, crushing the gunmen. Ximena stepped out and looked surprised.

“Did I miss anyone?” she asked.

“No, I think that was everybody,” said Paulson.

“Crap. I needed a live one,” she said.

Paulson pointed down the hall.

“I think I left a live one back there,” he said.

“Show me,” she said.

Paulson lead her to the unconscious guard on the basement floor. Ximena touched his head and saw the Black Mission.

“Okay, let’s go,” said Ximena.

Below ground, in the mission basement, Father Suarez walked into the throne room followed by Ojo.

“Greetings my dear priest,” said Señora Ecsed.

Father Suarez stood in front of La Muerte, with Ojo behind him.

“It is so nice to finally meet you,” she said.

“The pleasure is all yours, I assure you,” replied the priest.

She laughed.

“Was he much trouble, my Ojo?” she asked.

“No, my Lady. He came willingly,” said Ojo.

She got up from her throne and slowly walked around the priest.

“I'm not surprised. He knows when and when not to fight. Don't you Father?” she said.

“I suppose so,” was the reply.

“Don't sell yourself short,” she said.

“You need better men. What makes you think I could take them out so easily?” he asked.

“Experience has given me a way of reading people. I know an old soldier when I see one. Boys, make him comfortable,” said Señora Ecsed.

Two of her men showed the Priest to a chair at the side of the room. He sat without struggle and Ojo tied him down.

“And I know an old devil when I meet one. Your kind always pick forms pleasing to the eye,” said the priest.

“Why thank you,” said Señora Ecsed, with a gracious smile.

She walked over to the priest and sat on his lap.

“Life is so much more enjoyable making things as I want them,” she said.

On the dark road to the mission, Ximena drove the armored truck at high speed. Paulson was in the passenger's seat.

“How did you get this thing?” the Ranger asked.

“Keys were in the ignition,” she said.

“Right. Were you always…” he began to say.

“Dark and mysterious?” she asked.

“I was going for killing machine, but okay,” he replied.

“Oh, well to answer both, I guess this happened when I was rebooted,” she said.

For a moment there was an awkward silence. They bounced in the truck when it hit a bump causing the Ranger to wince. The bumps were not great for all his injuries.

“So you know where this the witch's hideout is because you read the guy's mind?” asked the Ranger.

“Pretty much,” Ximena replied.

“So are you psychic then?” he asked.

“Well, yeah. Sort of. I have to touch someone or something to do it. And before you ask, it came with the life after death package,” she said.

Another bump and Paulson hit his head on the roof.

“Could you please try to avoid those,” he asked, rubbing the top of his sore skull.

“Crybaby,” she replied.

Paulson glared and continued to rub his head.

“So what happens when you kill her?” he asked.

“You mean what happens to me?” she asked in reply.

“Yeah,” said Paulson.

“I go away. Back to the grave. It's the only way I get to rest in peace apparently,” said Ximena.

“Not much of a second chance is it?” he asked.

Ximena just stared forward.

“Yeah, well, sometimes you just have to do what you have to weather you like it or not,” she said.

At the mission, the Priest and the witch continued their conversation.

“May I ask what you want from me?” asked Father Suarez.

“Nothing from you. You are bait,” she said tapping his nose with her finger.

He looked annoyed.

“But if you live through this, you may have the honor of being my servant,” she said.

The priest laughed.

“What makes you think I will follow you?” he asked.

“I have ways of influencing people's minds,” she replied.

Señora Ecsed leaned in and spoke into the priest's ear.

“You will be harder to crack, but in the end you will fall in line like all the others,” she said.

“I have but one God. And by his grace you will never break my will,” he told the witch.

She slid off his lap and stood in front of him.

“I've broken stronger. And if your god were so inclined to stop me, he hasn't done a very good job thus far. Not that he hasn't come close a few times. But as you see, I am still here,” she said.

The armored truck stopped within view of the formerly abandoned mission in the middle of nowhere.

“So what's the plan?” asked Paulson.

“Kill the witch,” said Ximena.

“I was hoping for something more detailed than that,” he said.

“Look, I admit that I'm going on instinct for a change, but I need to go it alone,” said the dead woman.

“No. You're not…” he began to say.

She cut him off.

“Yes. I am. No arguments,” said Ximena.

She got out of the truck.

“You go find those army guys and lead them here,” she told Paulson.

“Not gonna let me help are you?” he asked.

“Even if I have to kill you myself. Now be useful and bring the cavalry,” she said.

Inside the mission, Señora Ecsed paced in front of the priest.

“Father, do you know what I am?” she asked.

“You are not a witch. At least not in the traditional sense,” he said.

“Very perceptive of you,” she said.

“So what are you then?” he asked.

“A traveler of sorts,” she said.

“Let’s not play games. Speak plainly,” he said.

“Fair enough. A long time ago I learned how to extend my life with the power of blood,” said Señora Ecsed as she walked back to her throne.

She took her seat with regal posture.

“Please don't tell me you’re a vampire,” said Father Suarez.

“Oh, no. I'd end my own life were I restricted with such a pitiful existence,” she said.

“But you are an immortal, of some kind. And youth is a part of the deal?” he asked.

“What's the purpose in living forever if you can't look good doing it? But it's not the only fringe benefit,” she replied.

“What else is there?” asked the priest.

“I keep the souls of my prey, giving me their knowledge and skills. I can also take their forms whenever I like,” she said.

Señora Ecsed snapped her fingers and a man walked up with a wine glass full of blood.

“Why take this path?” asked Father Suarez.

“At first the vanity of eternal youth was draw enough. But gallivanting through the ages just being pretty gets a tad boring after a while,” she said.

Señora Ecsed took the glass and drank.

“Ummm,” she said with a smile. “I prefer my drinks fresh and warm from the source, but this one… she was so sweet that her blood is delicious even when chilled.”

Father Suarez shook his head in disgust.

“You didn’t used to be so vile, did you? There is more to your story,” said Father Suarez.

“Very good, priest,” she said. “No, I did not seek this existence. Not initially. I was once a Countess a very long time ago. A rival to my house desired my family’s lands and holdings so he conspired with the church to paint me as a monster. They started rumors of me killing young girls and using their blood to extend my life.”

“And rumor became truth?” he asked.

“I call it poetic justice. As my revenge I embraced their lies. I took the daughters of my enemies before they captured me. They nearly killed me too, but I escaped. One day, after I build a kingdom here, I will go back and retake my homeland.” she said.

Outside the mission, Ximena snuck through the shadows and snapped a guards neck. She lowered him to the ground slowly. She silently moved into the mission.

“So you embraced the story to get revenge?” asked Father Suarez.

“I know, vengeance is an ever so common and basic motivation. But I was young and foolish back then. Call it a demon, or maybe it was even the Morning Star, himself. I was offered the power to vanquish my enemies and rule eternally.” she said.

“So what happened?” asked the priest.

“Youthful foolishness. I moved to fast and confirmed my monstrous nature before I could build an army of my own. I was captured again and put to death. Or so they thought.” she said.

“So what is your purpose here then?” asked Father Suarez.

“I have come to realize that this world has suffered enough from an uncaring dead god. I will give them a living one. One they can see and touch.” she said.

“You can do that anywhere. Why did you come here?” he asked.

Señora Ecsed finished her drink and lifted the glass in the air. The servant returned and took the glass away.

“Again, not by choice. My body was spirited away by loyal servants. I presume they came to this new world and somewhere along the line, I was lost. I woke again not far from here. So it's partially a matter of convenience.” she said.

“Partially?” he asked.

“As fate would have it, this culture provides an easy mythology to exploit.” she said.

“What are your plans for the people here? Do you want them as slaves?” he asked.

A laugh from Señora Ecsed.

“Don't be so simplistic. If they would be my willing and loyal servants then they may stand behind me proudly. Those who are loyal will be greatly rewarded.” she said.

“And if they are not willing?” he asked.

“Those who chose to reject my authority will live on their knees begging for my mercy.” she said.

“Until you kill them.” he said.

“Of course.” she said with a smile. “A ruler needs to eat.”

Chapter 16: Hands of Breathing Walls

The heavy doors at the front of the Mission’s chapel were still and silent. Ximena was tempted to go through the front and charge in. She decided to be more subtle but a stalk around the building yielded nothing in the ways of a better option. Inside the throne room, the crow in the cage began to caw and jump around.

“Ah, our next guest is here. Ojo would you mind?” Señora Ecsed asked.

“Si, my Lady,” he replied.

Ojo took two men with him up the stairs.

“He won't be coming back,” said Father Suarez.

“I know. This is a dangerous occupation for mortals,” she replied.

Ximena cautiously opened the large wooden door and quietly closed it behind her. Ojo and the two men were waiting in the chapel.

“Do you really want to do this?” Ximena asked.

“Take her,” he said.

The men started with guns, to no effect. Ximena walked through the gunfire and took the men down one by one. Ojo pulled out a large knife and slashed at Ximena. She dodged, took the knife, spun, and jammed it into Ojo’s chest. The two stood face to face.

“Was it worth it?” Ximena asked.

“I would do anything for her,” said Ojo.

“Even die?” she asked.

“Anything for her,” he replied as his body began to collapse.

Ojo dropped to his knees and then fell to the floor. Ximena slowly made her way down the steps. When she was near the bottom of the stairs, Señora Ecsed began speaking.

“Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door. Quoth the raven…” she said.

Ximena tossed the bloody knife at Señora Ecsed's feet.

“Nevermore,” said Ximena.

“Did he die well?” asked Señora Ecsed.

“I'm sure you would think so,” she replied.

“It would have been cruel to deny him the honor of dying for me,” said the witch.

“You’re crazy. I hope you know that,” said Ximena.

“Semantics,” was the reply.

Señora Ecsed stood up from her throne. She carefully scanned Ximena with her eyes.

“Will you try to kill me now?” she asked.

“It crossed my mind. I see you brought some insurance. Hello Father,” said Ximena.

The priest nodded his head.

“Would you expect any less?” asked Señora Ecsed.

“Not really. Although I am surprised you hadn't killed the bird yet,” said Ximena.

“It still serves a purpose,” Señora Ecsed replied.

“I guess that's how you got the one,” said Ximena, pointing to a dark corner.

Hijo stepped out of the shadows.

“Yes. And, you shall make a fine addition,” said La Muerte.

“That's going to be hard to do when you’re dead,” said Ximena.

“Such an optimistic young girl. Fortunately, I know better than to have just one insurance policy,” said the witch.

A man walked through a door holding something in a blanket. He handed it to Señora Ecsed. She opened the blanket and the baby began to cry. Ximena stepped back in shock. She knew who it was instantly.

“Thought she was dead didn't you?” Señora Ecsed asked.

“Let her go,” commanded the shaken voice of Ximena.

“Not until you submit,” she replied, smiling down at the baby.

“Please,” Ximena begged.

Señora Ecsed took a long sniff of the baby and savored the smell.

“Mm. I usually don’t take them this young but I can tell yours is delicious,” she said.

Ximena dropped to her knees.

“Good girl,” she said.

Señora Ecsed handed the baby back to the man and walked over to the crow's cage. Ximena saw what looked like her only opening and acted quickly. In a flash of movement, Ximena was on her feet and bolting towards Hijo. Instead of a direct attack, she grabbed him by his waist and launched his body into the fireplace. She turned to attack the witch, but Señora Ecsed was already behind her. She grasped Ximena by the throat.

“Silly girl. Hijo, hold her.” she said.

Hijo walked out of the fire, his clothes partially burnt off and skin healing. He grabbed Ximena’s arms with his now bare hands as Señora Ecsed walked back to the cage. Ximena sighed in relief. She could feel Hijo’s mind.

“Time to wake up,” Ximena whispered to Hijo.

Hijo's eyes close and his head jerked back. Señora Ecsed felt the change behind her.

“Not so silly after all. Hide the brat!” she yelled.

The man ran out with the baby and Señora Ecsed moved to the back of her throne and pulled out two swords hidden behind it.

“What's going on?” asked Hijo.

“Not much. Can you let go of me?” Ximena asked.

Hijo let go.

“Hello, Joseph,” said Señora Ecsed as she stalked forward with a blade in each hand.

“I see you've gone blonde, my Lady Báthori,” said Joseph.

“I think it suits me. Ready to be my slave again?” she asked.

“Time out.” said Ximena. “Lady Báthori? I know that name. I read it in college somewhere.”

“Please do the honors, Joseph,” said Lady Báthori.

“You are like me, right?” Joseph asked Ximena.

“Yeah. I’m Ximena, by the way,” she replied.

“Well, Ximena, I present to you the Countess Báthori Erzsébet de Ecsed of Hungary,” said Joseph.

It took a second for the name to connect in Ximena’s head. She’d had a cousin who was obsessed with dark tales of ghosts and monsters. Mostly Ximena tuned out the stories but a few peaked her interest. Especially when the monsters in question were women.

“The Blood queen?” asked Ximena in disbelief.

The Countess bowed her head slightly.

“Oh, I was never a queen,” said Lady Báthori, modestly.

“Though you have the ambition to be one,” said Father Suarez.

“Everyone must have a dream,” said the Countess.

Upstairs, the servant with the baby kicked open the chapel doors and ran to a group of trucks parked nearby.

When he reached for a door handle, someone spoke up behind him.

“Stop. Turn slowly,” commanded Ranger Paulson.

The man reached for his gun. Paulson was faster, shooting the servant in the back of his the head. Beneath the chapel, the conflict continued.

“I will not be as easy to control this time,” said Joseph.

“We shall see. May I have this dance?” she asked.

Joseph and Ximena rushed the Countess. They were barely able to keep up with her counter attack. Joseph picked up a bench, swung it, and smashed Lady Báthori into a wall. He ran to the throne, grabbed a sword, and tossed another to Ximena.

“Care to fill me in on how we can't kill her?” asked Ximena.

“She takes the blood of others to stay immortal. She also inherits their skills and knowledge,” he replied.

Lady Báthori got up.

“The blood of young women preferably. It does wonders for your complexion.” she said. “But I’ve also had my fair share of swordsmen and soldiers.”

Joseph and Ximena attacked again but were still held at bay. Countess Báthori had a smile like she was enjoying the exercise.

“Would you like to know how I trapped this one, my dear dead girl?” asked the Countess.

More ineffective attacks.

“I was a bag of bones when that one’s sister found me,” she said.

She countered Ximena and Joseph, slashing them both deeply.

“I don't have to remind you how tasty she was,” she said to Joseph.

Joseph and Lady Báthori slowly circled each other while Ximena moved back and behind the Countess.

“Long story short. I took her blood and killed him when he interrupted my meal. When he rose again, I took his bird, and here we are,” she said.

Another unsuccessful attack.

“Well, maybe I had a little fun with him before I killed him,” said Lady Báthori.

“You will not have me again, Erzsébet!” said Joseph.

“Only a matter of time,” she replied.

Ximena tried to make a move but Lady Báthori whipped one of her swords at her. The sword went through Ximena’s shoulder and pinned her to the wall. Joseph moved in but the Countess grabbed him and tossed him across the room.

Outside, a truck full of men pulled up to the mission. Paulson drove El Monstruo into the truck, pinning the men inside. He climbed into the turret and fired into the truck, killing the men.

Inside, Ximena struggled to pull the blade out of the wall and free herself.

“Such a feisty one. You will do so well at my side,” said the Countess.

Joseph tried to run up behind the witch.

“No more,” she said.

Lady Báthori raised her hand and Joseph slowed to a grinding halt. He tried to move forward but only slowly staggered.

“Enough entertainment. Time to come back to my fold. Kneel,” she commanded.

Joseph knelt unwillingly. The Countess walked up to him, touched his head and closed her eyes. Joseph's body trembled.

“Now, now. No more need to struggle,” said the Countess.

Joseph stood and faced Ximena silently.

“You know, I should thank you, I haven't had a workout like that in ages. I forgot how much fun it was,” said the Countess.

Ximena stared at Lady Báthori with contempt.

“Don't be mad. I should let you know, you were not an accident like poor Joseph here,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” asked Ximena.

Lady Báthori closed in on Ximena.

“My dear, I brought you back,” she said.

Ximena was silent and confused.

“I know of the black bird's magic thanks to Joseph. I wanted another one of you and it was only a matter of knowing where, when, and how to act,” she said.

Countess Báthori drew a knife from her cloak.

“Now…” she said as she caressed Ximena's face.

Ximena’s head jerked and she found herself in a vision. She was in a lab. Joseph's sister, Sasha was examining a mummified body in an iron casket. She was examining the skull with a magnifying glass and flashlight. The small flashlight slipped out of her fingers and into the mouth of the skull. When she reached in to retrieve it, she cut her finger on a tooth. A drop of blood fell into the mouth of the corpse. Sasha walked over to a sink to wash her cut. The skeletal corpse rose behind her and jumped on Sasha’s back. The college student tried to pull it off of her, but the corpse bit down on her neck and wrapped its legs and arms around the woman. Sasha fell to the floor screaming for her life.

The scene flashed to Joseph walking into the silent lab and finding his sister’s body on the floor.

“Sasha!” he yelled.

Someone grabbed him from behind and threw him across the lab. Countess Báthori stood over him in tattered cloths holding a scalpel.

The scene changed again. Joseph was tied to a table and Countess Báthori was sitting on him, cutting into his chest, smiling and giggling.

Ximena opened her eyes. She was back in the mission.

“I learned how to harness the magic of your kind long ago but Joseph was the first I was able to capture. When I saw the bones the old man read, I could not help myself,” she said.

Countess Báthori leaned in and spoke into Ximena's ear.

“You didn't come back to kill me. I brought you here to serve me,” she said.

The Countess smiled as her plan was falling into place. It was not an exact plan. She knew those brought back from the dead could make things difficult. But everything was turning the way she had wanted. She would have two immortal enforcers at her command. But the Countess Báthori Erzsébet de Ecsed of Hungary had a habit of not accounting for the stubbornness of the living.

Her body spasmed as a sword shot out of her chest. Sarah reached around and sliced through the Blood Queen’s neck with a Marine K-Bar. Then she wrapped her arm around Countess’s neck and started stabbing her in the back repeatedly with her knife. Lady Báthori managed to twist around and push Sarah back. As moved away she slashed at the Blood Queen but Lady Báthori ducked, pulled a knife from her cloak, closed the distance between herself and the nun, and drove the knife into Sarah's stomach. Then she picked up Sarah over her head and threw her across the room. Countess Báthori held her bloody throat tightly.

“Hurts, don't it?” asked Ximena.

Countess Báthori faced Ximena and moved her hands away from her neck. The wound was healed.

“Just briefly. But not as much as your brat is going to hurt as she grows. I’m going to keep her alive as my slave and personal juice box,” said the witch.

Countess Báthori calmly walked over to Sarah rubbing her neck. She picked up the K-Bar off the floor and knelt next to the nun.

“You are very good. For a mortal,” she said.

She leaned in and stabbed Sarah with the knife.

“But you will never...”

Stab.

“Do that...”

Stab.

“Again.”

Stab.

“Ever,” she said to the former Marine.

One final stab and twist in the wound. Sarah cringed in pain.

“Now be a good girl and die already,” said the Countess.

Sarah spit blood in Lady Báthori’s face.

“Nice,” said the witch.

She wiped the blood off her face with her hand and licked her fingers clean.

“Very nice,” she said.

A squawking sound come from behind Countess Báthori. She turned to see a crow emerging from a pool of blood on the floor. Joseph grabbed the Countess by her neck.

“Again?” she asked him.

Joseph snapped Countess Báthori neck and threw her body into the fireplace. He ran to Ximena and unpinned her from the wall.

“We don't have much time,” he said.

Countess Báthori drove a sword through Joseph's back and Ximena fruitlessly tried to fend off the Countess with the other sword.

“This is pointless. You can't kill me. It's going to take more than you two,” said Lady Báthori

Joseph joined the fight but the Countess kept both at bay. Paulson walked in the room with an assault rifle. He got a clear shot emptied a clip into the Countess. While she was distracted, Ximena and Joseph slashed at her but she kept healing. A groaning skull began to emerge from a pool of blood on the floor near Paulson’s feet. He backed away in fright.

“What the hell is that?” he asked.

The Countess flung her sword at Paulson. He dropped to the ground dodging it. Lady Báthori kicked Ximena and then Joseph across the room and jumped to the pool of blood, drinking it off the ground greedily.

“We need to bleed her!” yelled Joseph

Joseph and Ximena rushed Lady Báthori, slashing her multiple times but she got back on her feet and continued fighting.

“Shoot her!” Ximena yelled.

Paulson kept his aim.

“I can't get a clear shot!” he shouted back.

“They're all dead! Just shoot,” shouted Father Suarez.

The Ranger fired, hitting all three. Joseph and Ximena hit the ground as Paulson keeps firing. The bloody Countess staggered backwards. She regained her footing and ran at Paulson. He managed to reload and emptied another clip into her, causing her to stagger and fall.

“You... stupid... peons. You can't kill me. I am eternal!” shouted the Countess.

A new voice came from the shadows in the room.

“She's right,” said a woman’s voice.

Joseph’s sister Sasha stepped into the light. Her skin was pale and there were blood stains on her cloths.

“She is eternal,” said Sasha.

“Sasha?” asked Joseph.

“Hello, Joseph,” she said.

“You little hag. You belong to me,” said Lady Báthori.

“No, Erzsébet. I don't. None of us do,” she replied.

Other women with pale skin and blood stained clothes began to walk out of the shadows from all over the room. As blood from the Countess had been released, so were the souls of her victims. They silently approached Lady Báthori.

“You are correct in one thing, witch. You can't be killed, but you can certainly be sent back into the shadows,” said Sasha.

“No! I will not be silenced again!” shouted the Countess.

Lady Báthori tried to fight the women off but she became smothered. The women clawed at the Countess and bit into her. They tore through her body consumed everything they could. Her screams filled the room and then there was silence. The women turned and walked back into the shadows. All that's left of the Countess was a bloody skeleton.

“We have taken back what is ours. Now we can rest,” said Sasha. “Thank you, Joseph. I knew you would come for me.”

“You know me, little sister. I never give up,” he said to her.

They hugged then Sasha walked into the shadows and disappeared.

“I'll see you soon,” said Joseph.

Ximena untied the priest. Father Suarez rushes to Sarah's side. Paulson walks back into the room carrying the baby.

“Who does this belong to?” he asked.

“She's mine,” said Ximena.

Ximena took the baby and walked over to Father Suarez and Sarah.

“How is she?” asked Ximena.

The priest's head was down. Then he made the sign of the cross over Sarah.

“She's gone,” he said.

Ximena placed her hand on his shoulder. Father Suarez stood up.

“She died like a Marine should, fighting like hell,” he said.

Sarah walked out of the shadows on the other side of the room.

“What is going on she asked?” surprising herself at her ability to speak.

“It’s time to go,” said a voice from behind her.

A women dressed in white stepped out of the shadow and stood next to Sarah. Sarah turned to look at her, stepped back in shock, smiled, and then launched at the woman with a hug.

“Shelly!” Sarah yelled in joy.

“Hey there,” Shelly replied.

Sarah took a step back with tears of joy in her eyes.

“Am I?” Sarah asked.

“I’m afraid so kiddo,” said Shelly.

She reached out her hand. Sarah looked over at Father Suarez one last time then took Shelly’s hand and they both walked back into the shadow. Joseph's crow landed next to Lady Báthori’s skull and tapped on it. Then it moved over so Joseph could stomp down, crushing the skull.

“I'll take her bones and pulverize them. Then scatter them all over the mountains,” he said.

“You should really think bigger,” said Paulson.

Ximena walked up to Joseph and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Like worldwide. Maybe a few oceans,” she said.

Joseph nodded. Paulson opened the door to the birdcage and Ximena's crow flew out and landed on her shoulder. Then he walked over to Father Suarez to untie him.

“Okay, bird. Are we done now?” Ximena asked the crow.

At the hospital, the morning light began to shine into Jonah’s room. Ximena walked up to her fiancé. She leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

“I will always love you,” she said.

She placed her sleeping daughter on his chest and pinned a note to the blanket.

“Same goes for you. Talk care of each other,” she said.

Chapter 17: If Love Proves Real

Rows of white marble headstones were lined up in perfect lines. Most of the headstones bared the image of a cross in one form or another. Many others had the Star of David, Crescent Moons, and various other symbols of faith. Father Suarez walked up to one of them. Above the name was the symbol for the Dove of Peace.

SARAH MOHR

SERGEANT

US MARINE CORPS

AFGHANISTAN

IRAQ

JUN 18 1982

NOV 2 2008

The crow landed on the headstone, holding a ring in its beak. It stared at the priest. Father Suarez held out his hand and the crow dropped the ring in his palm and then flew away. Father Suarez laughed lightly. Jonah walked up from behind, with his arm in a sling, and pushing a stroller.

“Hello father,” said Jonah.

The priest turned around.

“Jonah. What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I just wanted to give Sarah my thanks for all she did,” he said.

“She will appreciate that. How have you been?” asked the priest.

“Getting better,” said Jonah. “The important thing is I’ll be mobile enough to keep up with this one when she gets to moving on her own.”

Father Suarez leaned down to get a better look at the baby.

“And how are you, little one? What is her name?” he asked.

“I named her Sarah,” Said Jonah, with a smile.

Father Suarez stood.

“Not that I mind but how did you come about that?” he asked.

“Funny thing. When I was still in a coma I had a dream of Ximena coming to me. When I came to, they showed me a note that was pinned to the blanket. It was in Ximena’s handwriting and it suggested Sarah as a name.” said Jonah.

“I think Sister Sarah would have liked that,” said Father Suarez.

“I don’t suppose you know how a note from Ximena got to me in the hospital?” he asked.

“God works in mysterious ways,” said the Priest.

Jonah shook his head and decided to drop the subject.

“I think I have something for you,” said Father Suarez.

He handed Sarah’s ring to Jonah.

“Give this to your little one when she is old enough,” he said.

“A ring?” asked Jonah.

“It belonged to Sister Sarah. It was her most prized possession. A good friend of hers gave it to her a long time ago,” he said.

“I'm not sure I should take this,” said Jonah.

“You’re not taking it. You’re holding it for your daughter. When she is old enough to understand, tell her it's a symbol that love never dies,” said the Priest.

Jonah looked at the ring.

“Thanks,” he said.

Jonah reached in his pocket and pulled out a penny. He placed it on top of Sarah’s grave.

“Thank you, Sarah,” he said.

Baby Sarah began to make noise and get fussy.

“Okay, I better get her back to the hotel. We got lost and she’s probably been out a lot longer then she likes,” said Jonah. “It was good seeing, Father.”

Jonah and Father Suarez shook hands and then hugged.

“Take care, my son,” said the priest.

Jonah turned and walked away with Sarah. Father Suarez turned to his friend’s grave and stood at attention. He made sure his salute was as crisp as he’s ever given.

“Semper Fi, my friend,” said Father Suarez.

He dropped his salute and relaxed. The priest fished a quarter out of his pocket and placed it on the headstone, next to the penny. Then he turned and walked away through the rows of headstones. There were other long lost friends he wanted to visit.

Jonah drove to the hotel as baby Sarah sat in a car seat in the back. She stared out the window as a crow flew beside the car for a few seconds. It looked at little Sarah and then turned away to disappear into the sky. Sarah laughed. Jonah looked at her in the rear view mirror and smiled. His rental car traveled down the street on a bright sunny day. Green grass and bright colors were all around as the crow flew above.

Back in Texas, another crow landed on Ximena’s new headstone.

Ximena Mendes

Best Friend, Loving Mother

On the rear of the headstone was an inscription suggested by Father Suarez. It was something written in the journal of his friend.

“If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.”