Amicia was hiding underneath a bed as members of the Court of Diogenes surrounded the Romero house. They had just riddled the room she was in with hundreds of bullets. Outside, Rosa Romero giggled at the sight of her former home being torn apart by gunfire. Her laugh sounded like lily bells chiming in the wind. A stark dichotomy against the rattling sounds shots being fired. As shots slowed, Rosa turned to two of the robed figures.
“You two. Go inside and see if Daddy is dead in there. The rest of you, we’re going down to the library. And keep your guard up! Daddy can be real slippery when he wants to be. Hannibal, up.”
The hulking man with a lantern for a head reached down, picking the young girl up. He placed her on his shoulders and led a procession of people towards the garage. As they were leaving, Amicia crawled out from beneath the bed. Getting up, she saw a room that was completely wrecked. The wall above her was punched through with dozens of new holes. Wooden splinters fell from the ceiling. The bed had been shredded as metal cut through the fabric. While she was below the bed, Amicia had glanced at a bullet that had bounced until it was caught in the metal mesh of the bed. It had been inches from her head. The sight of it was sobering.
She had to get out of the house. If they found her here, Amicia would be a dead woman walking. She didn’t know much about the Court of Diogenes, but they seemed pretty trigger happy so far. If Rosa Romero was willing to kill the man who raised her, what would she do to a stranger? Amicia didn’t want to find out. Despite Rosa being adopted, the crazy apple apparently didn't fall far from the crazy tree.
Amicia walked out of the room, staying light on her toes. She made her way to the staircase. As she was about to step down, she paused. Someone was speaking. Someone who was much too close for comfort.
“You check upstairs. I’ll check down here.” a man’s voice said.
His counterpart replied, “What if he’s up there?”
“Then you kill him. He’s almost 50 and we just pumped enough shots into this place to slaughter an army. Stop being a little bitch and get up there.”
Amicia slowly backed away from the steps. She silently walked backwards until she felt the handle of a door. She pushed it open behind her. She could make out the top of someone’s head just coming up on the stairs as she stepped into the bathroom, closing the door without so much as a click.
A man walked up the staircase of the Romero house. His name was James Rollins. He came from nothing and grew up to be the same. He had a record. It wasn’t a mile long, but definitely long enough for a good stroll. Break ins. Assaults. Drunk and dis-orderlies. He had been in and out of prison for a while. Then one day all that changed.
He was on a prison transport to a new holding facility when the driver of the bus pulled off to the side of the road. Every other guy on the bus didn’t question it. They thought maybe the driver had to take a piss. The man driving their bus never came back. Everyone in the bus thought maybe this would be their lucky break. They all tried to break out of the manacles chaining them to their seats. But not James. He knew something was up. 40 minutes later, another prison transport drove past them. It was quick, but James swore he saw their driver in the front seat of the other bus.
Then a woman came in. She was beautiful. She had platinum blonde hair at shoulder length and she dressed in a $1,000 suit. Clear blue eyes, full lips, and the smoothest skin James had ever seen. The guys went wild at the sight of her. A few of them hadn’t seen a woman in years and she was an absolute stunner. They said all sorts of things about what they’d do to her if they got freed, but James stayed quiet. He felt something bad in the air.
She did something that baffled James. The woman walked up to the door blocking the boys off from the cabin of the bus. Then she unlocked it with her key. Why did she have a key? The moment she unlocked the door, Big John Khan bounced up and rushed at her. He was a big son of a bitch, almost 6’5 and 320 pounds of muscle. The bastard had broken out of his cuffs and was just biding his time. Well he got it. The chick in the suit didn’t so much as goddamn flinch as the son of a bitch came to tackle her. Anyone that saw his face knew what Big John Khan was planning to do with a woman who looked that good. Outta nowhere, She whipped out a gun and blasted Big John Khan right in the goddamn face. No muss, no fuss.
All of the boys sat there, jaws dropped as they watched Big John Khan crumple to the floor. Now, everyone knew Big John and a good number of the boys had it out for the guy. Every one of them knew at least one guy Big John Khan had his way with on the inside, but no one ever stood up to Big John. He was pretty much untouchable inside. He was protected. He had it made. They were both in prison, but Big John lived in a whole different world compared to nobodies like James Rollins. Now Big John Khan got himself done in by a chick who couldn’t be more than 130 pounds. A chick who smiled as she watched the body of Big John Khan go down, blood gushing out of the new hole in his head.
James Rollins remembered how he wanted to shit his himself at that moment. A few of the other guys shut the fuck up after that, but a lot of them didn’t. They hollered at that woman like she was just some girl they were gonna get their hands on, but James knew she was in control of the whole deal.
She gave everyone a good once over, with a thoughtful face. Then she started coming down the aisle. As she did, James realized she was choosing people. The ones she chose got left alone but the ones she didn’t? She put a bullet in their head right there. She was judging them like they were all cattle brought to the slaughter. She took her sweet time doing it too.
The woman even stopped a couple of times to reload when she ran empty. Everyone started panicking as she came down that aisle but what were they gonna do about it? They were chained up good. Big John Khan was the only man strong enough to break free and everyone saw how that had ended.
By the time she got half way down that aisle, these hardened criminals were damn near begging her for their life. All of them. Pissing, moaning, crying. Then she got to James’ seat. She grabbed him by the chin, tilted his head up at her, and looked him straight in the eye. James never figured out what the hell she was looking for, but in that moment he was sure he wasn’t gonna make it out of that bus alive.
She let him go and pointed her gun at him. A pristine looking thing with a silver coating and intricate etchings carved on the barrel. James closed his eyes, waiting for the end. In his head, he asked his momma to forgive him for being a bad man. For being just like his daddy. Then the roar of a gunshot rang out right next to his head and James Rollins was sure he was dead. But he wasn't.
He opened his eyes and realized that the terrifying woman had kept on moving. He turned to his right and saw the man he’d been sitting with. The fella was laying there dead, his head propped up against the window.
James couldn’t remember much after that. In the days after, he’d been taken with just 4 others to some ranch somewhere and he’d been working for the Court of Diogenes ever since. 5 people were all that remained on a bus filled with 50 men. From then on, if anyone ever asked James Rollins what he remembered of that day, he’d say that he mainly remembered bawling like a goddamn baby.
James Rollins didn’t know what the Court of Diogenes was. He saw strange and unnatural things, but never asked once about why they were doing what they did. The way he figured it, he had died that day and this was his hell. He was a pawn before the court and that’s all he’d ever be.
That was why James Rollins was in the middle of nowhere in Tennessee. He didn’t know jack shit about who Rosa Romero was. He also didn’t know why she wanted him in up here, trying to kill her dad. What he did know was that the woman with white hair brought Rosa into the fold.
In the time he’d been working for the court, James Rollins had learned the woman on the bus was called The Chaplain. The other peasants told James she was called that because she was supposed to be their moral support. The woman to turn to if any of them ever had any doubts about their duty. James Rollins wasn’t a smart man. He knew that. He’d never gone to college. Hell, he didn’t even finish high school, but he was still smart enough to realize he would rather jump off a bridge before bringing up any of his doubts to the Chaplain. He was also smart enough to realize that if the Chaplain doted on Rosa Romero like she was Rosa’s own mother, then he’d be wise to do exactly what that evil little goth girl wanted.
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James Rollins trudged up the stairs. He checked the first room on the left. It was a girl’s room. There was a big mirror next to a table in the room. After walking in, he saw a couple photos of Rosa Romero hanging on the mirror. He left quickly after giving the place a quick look over. Teenage girls got real touchy about their private space being invaded, even if they were the ones who ordered you to do it.
Back in the hallway, James walked to the door on the right. He twisted the handle, pushing the door open. Inside was a bathroom. Directly in front of the door, was the shower. Its curtains were closed. James walked in front of the shower. There was no way a 50 year old man was hiding in the shower right? Better to check. James didn’t want his ass on the chopping block if Rosa’s old man was actually squirming in there. He pulled out his rifle, aiming it at the curtains. He stepped up to the shower. With one hand, he flung back the curtains while pointing his weapon into the bathtub. Nothing. James relaxed. His grip on his gun slackened and his finger was off the trigger. That was when Amicia struck him from behind.
-Earlier-
As Amicia slipped into the bathroom, she looked around for anything that could be helpful. She had a pistol and a knife. A pistol wasn’t gonna win a firefight with these guys. Her knife could be helpful, but she still didn’t know if she was ready to murder someone in cold blood. She had felt that conviction burn within her when she was with Kate, but Kate had been right in front of her then. Kate had been a defenseless girl in a bad situation.
Maybe if someone else was in danger, she could stab the cultists right in the neck and leave them to bleed out on this porcelain floor. There wasn’t anyone else here however. She was the only one that needed to get out of this mess. Amicia struggled with the decision. Finally she chose to look for something else she could use. Something less permanent.
She quietly rummaged through the bathroom, using her phone as a light. There was a plunger. It could work but looked awfully thin. She opened the closet. Inside there were sheets, detergents, and other sundries. Wait. What was that? She pulled out a long metallic cylinder from the back of the closet. Why was this in here?
Amicia turned back to the showers and realized that it was a spare for the bar holding up the curtains. The creak of a footstep sounded outside and she scrambled towards the corner of the bathroom, flattening herself against the wall. She’d been searching with her phone’s flashlight, but now she waited in the dark as whoever was on the other side of the door came in.
A guy dressed in red robes walked through the door with a rifle in hand. He flicked on the lights. Amicia held her breath as he walked past where she was crouching. She crept up behind him. He seemed almost as tense as she did. The man threw back the curtains, relaxing when he didn't find anything. When his finger left the trigger, Amicia swung down on his wrist. The man dropped the gun as her hit sent shock-waves through his hand. James Rollins would’ve yelped in surprise if Amicia didn’t immediately follow up by whacking him on the side of his temple. The man crumpled, his body folding in two on the rim of the bathtub.
Amicia dropped the metal bar and picked up the assault rifle. She didn’t want to have to use it, but she would if that’s what it took. Amicia crept out into the hallway and down the stairs. She looked left then right. No sign of the other guy. She ran towards the exit. If she could just make it to the car, she’d be okay. From her earlier experience, Romero’s van was built like a tank. Amicia was mere moments away from opening the door when she heard a click. She flinched backwards just in time to dodge an opening salvo from the other cultist in the house.
Amicia ducked low and sprinted as fast as she could around the corner. She was in the dining room now. In the back, there was a kitchen with an island. Amicia could hear the other cultist hot on her trail. She ran past a table and slid behind the kitchen island, putting a solid chunk of mass in between her and the cultist. As she was about to position herself up to shoot at the man, he opened fire at her. His shots caught the barrel of her own rifle and her gun was ripped out of her hand.
“Fuck!” she screamed, ducking back down.
She heard a laugh and then a voice. “Make it easy on yourself girlie. No way out of here and you’re not getting past me,” the man shouted out. Amicia reached towards her rifle. It wasn’t far away and she could reach out to grab it without leaving her cover. She took it in hand, giving it a once over. It was busted. Amicia wasn’t even sure it could fire in its current condition. She was totally outgunned. It was only a matter of time before his backup came in when they heard the firefight.
Amicia pulled out her M-9. There was a back exit attached to this kitchen. She considered it for a moment and then wrote it off. She’d never make it to that exit. If she tried, she'd be in the open and this man was an infuriatingly good shot.
She looked up. It'd been silent for a moment. Should she risk it? Try to take a shot? Just as she asked herself this, the man opened fire on her again. Sparks flew as the bullets clashed against some the metal pans hanging above.
God-dammit. He had her completely pinned down. If she popped her head up, he’d blow it off. What was she gonna do? Come on. Think, think. She looked down towards her knife. The knife! Just how lucky was it? Worth a shot. If she didn’t do something soon, she’d be a goner.
Amicia clutched her pistol in one hand and her knife in the other. She whispered a prayer to her brother. “Help me out here, Avery.” She gave the knife a kiss for good luck before flicking the blade blindly up over the counter, aiming towards the general direction of where the gunman was. At least, she had hoped it was aimed in the general direction of where they were.
Seconds after her throw, Amicia heard, “What the fuck!” She popped out of the right corner of the kitchen island clutching her M-9. She saw the guy firing at her holding his rifle sideways, looking flustered. Her knife was embedded in the center of his assault rifle. A thought flashed through her head. The guy must’ve used his gun as a shield, holding it out in front of himself to deflect against her knife. As he turned back towards her, she shot him in one knee and then the other. Pop, pop.
“AAAAAHHH” he screamed. He dropped to his knees, exacerbating his injury. She ran towards him at full speed. Amicia rammed her knee right into his face. She almost flinched at hearing his nose crack. If he wasn’t down for the count before, he definitely was now. She bent down, retrieving her knife.Then she ran towards the exit. No point in trying to stay quiet now. Whatever semblance of stealth she had was fully blown.
As Amicia bursted out the front door, she witnessed a small crowd outside .To her right were 5 people. There were 3 goons with assault rifles being led by Rosa Romero and Hannibal, her giant. Rosa noticed her immediately. She screamed at the goons, pointing furiously at Amicia. Amicia ran as Rosa’s henchmen brought up their guns. They wanted to fire on her, but they couldn’t see in the dark as well as Rosa could. Hannibal solved that little problem for them. He turned his lantern head towards Amicia, revealing her location to everyone outside.
Amicia kept running. She got behind Esteban’s super reinforced van just before the 3 red robed men opened fire on her. Amicia jammed the key into the door, opening it and climbing into the driver’s seat. Through the passenger’s side window, she saw Hannibal charging towards her. A mountain of muscles came barrelling towards her at breakneck speed. Behind him, the rest of the Court of Diogenes came streaming out of the garage, weapons in hand. In the very back, Esteban Romero was being escorted out by 2 robed men.
Amicia pulled her door closed and locked down the van. She pushed the key into the ignition. A twist of the hand and the vehicle to spark to life. Amicia sighed in relief as the engine roared. Then, a loud bang sounded off to her right.
Amicia turned to see the lantern headed man right outside the passenger window. His hands were as big as pumpkins and he pounded on the glass. His first punch landed, shaking the frame of the van. His second hit cracked the glass and Amicia’s eyes turned wide. She'd tried to break to glass earlier with a sharp pick to no results. Whatever the court did to this man had given him an otherworldly strength.
Amicia put the pedal to the metal. The van jerked forwards and away from Hannibal, knocking him back. She needed to do a U turn to get on the road leading away from this cluster fuck of a situation. Things had gone from bad to worse ever since Esteban had gotten a hold of her. She didn’t want to find out just how bad it could get. The car sped towards the garage before making a sharp right. Amicia saw Rosa and her goons as she drove past. They trained their guns on her car, firing at her again as she passed them. Rosa was shouting something at them, looking furious.
“Stop firing you dolts! The van is bulletproof! Hannibal! Catch her!”
Amicia didn’t know what the kid was screaming and she didn’t care. She had moved 15 meters away from the crowd. Then something thudded from the back of the van and she pitched forward in her seat. Shaking her head, she decided to ignore the sound. Whatever it was, she’d deal with it later. Amicia kept flooring the gas.
Then with growing horror, she realized that the van wasn’t moving forward despite her gunning it. She looked to the side mirror. In the reflection, Hannibal was holding back the van with his ridiculously large hands. The man was single-handedly stopping a 2 ton vehicle from moving. No matter how much Amicia pressed down on the gas, the van could not go forwards.
Amicia sat there flustered. She had no idea what she could do at that moment. A tapping on the glass got her out of her stupor. At the window, Rosa Romero knocked on the door. She turned to look at the teenager. Rosa smiled up at her. Amicia had never known a girl as young as Rosa could look like that.
Her grin was evil incarnate. It promised terrible things in Amicia’s future. The rest of the henchmen followed after their leader. They spread out around the van, fully surrounding Amicia. She tried flooring the car again. This time she could feel Hannibal actually dragging the vehicle backwards. She looked left and right at all the people around her. Nowhere to go and no place to hide. It was checkmate.