CHAPTER 11

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‘I am so sorry Homer. I should have never sent you there.’

Homer only grunted as the needle punched in and out of his skin, the thread following like a trail of searing fire, ‘Where did you learn this trick, Father?’

O’Connor turned away to reach for the bottle of rum, splashing some on Homer’s bullet wound and taking a generous swig for himself, ‘The Troubles Homer, I learned it in The Troubles.’

‘The Troubles?’

‘Never you mind. When you’re better, we’re going to the city. I should never have sent you after those animals alone.’

‘I can’t stop now, Father, the one-armed man knows me.’

‘Homer, no. You see what happened the first time? They will be ready for you the next time.’

‘Maybe I will be ready for them.’

O’Connor opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again as a burst of gunfire cut through the early morning silence of the village.

Homer tried to rise but the priest put a hand on his chest, ‘Stay here.’

Homer’s beady eyes were hot but he stopped, ‘If there is any more noise, then I’m coming.’

O’Connor nodded his agreement and slipped out into the mud square of the village. Three bandits, loosely holding their assault rifles, stood in the open, waiting for someone to appear. Before they noticed the priest, one of them fired another burst into the air. O’Connor flinched, resisting the urge to turn his head to see if Homer was about to barge out to come to his aid. Thankfully, he showed some restraint and stayed hidden.

The bandits saw the priest and waved with a kind of arrogant urgency, but made no move to come to him. The priest swallowed his pride and approached.

‘Hey, Padre. You the boss here?’

The priest shrugged, ‘I can speak for the people here. God is the boss here, as he is everywhere.’

The leader spat and his accomplices sniggered slightly. The leader turned and scowled at the other two and they immediately stopped.

‘Padre, my name is Jose. I have no problem with God and I really don’t want to give him a reason to have a problem with me. I am here on business and if you can help us out then we would be happy to leave you be.’

O’Connor smiled as his hands began to unconsciously roll a cigarette, ‘I live to serve.’

‘We are looking for the monster.’

O’Connor’s face did not reveal anything but his hands momentarily faltered as they performed their otherwise fluid movements. Jose’s eyes darted down and then back to the priest’s face.

‘What monster?’, the priest asked.

Jose leaned slightly closer. He did not seem threatening, he just seemed to be very interested in what the priest had to say, ‘The hairy one. The one that looks like a Gorilla.’

O’Connor titled his head as he lit the cigarette, ‘I have no idea what you mean. There are plenty of stories here about monsters but I certainly have never seen one.’

‘We’ve heard stories. The thing has been seen here. We think it is protecting your village. We have lost friends who may have been giving you trouble.'

‘And what makes you think a monster had anything to do with that? This is the jungle, accidents happen here all the time. There are jaguars and snakes out here.’

Jose shook his head, ‘No snake could have been responsible for what happened to our friends. And jaguars don’t attack people.’

‘There are stories of a particularly big and nasty man-eating jaguar in this part of the jungle.’

‘Stop playing Padre. We are talking about a real monster. One that I have seen with my own eyes. A monster that the Chief saw many years ago. We want it and you are doing yourself no favors by hiding the thing.’

O’Connor straightened himself with indignation, ‘I am a man of the church. If I truly believed there was a demon here it would never be in my interest to protect such an abomination. I exist to serve God and hinder Satan.’

Jose faltered then. One of the other men stepped up to him and whispered something in his ear. Jose hissed something in return and the other man stepped back, holding his palms up.

Jose turned back to the priest, 'I am sorry Padre. We have our instructions. You can give us information or we will be back in a few days to burn this shit-hole to the ground.'

'No. We don't know anything. What are you going to do? Burn every village in the region until someone produces your imaginary monster?'

Jose bowed his head and turned to walk away. As he left he said 'The Chief is very eager to find the creature and, if needs be, then that is exactly what we will do.'

O'Connor watched the three men walk back to the dock and waited for them to fire the motor on their boat and drive away.

O'Connor ducked back into the hut wearing a blank expression.

'This is my fault, Homer.'

'Don't worry Father, I will kill them. You have nothing to fear.'

O'Connor looked pointedly at the wound on Homer's torso and the ape creature displayed what could only have been described as embarrassment.

'I won't make that mistake again, Father.'

'No. You won't. I won't send you against them out there on your own again.'

'But Father' Homer erupted, 'we can't abandon the village. We can't leave-'

'Homer, I cannot abandon you to those animals either.'

'No Father. No!' Homer was enraged, his beady eyes were burning with intent. 'I will not back down from this. And your... And God would not be happy if we abandoned the villagers to the bandits.'

O'Connor smiled wanly, 'We are not going to abandon the villagers.'

'Then what are we going to do if you won't let me fight them.'

'Alone.'

'What?'

'I am not going to let you fight them, alone.'

Homer frowned, 'Again Father, I am inclined to say "what"?'

'I am going to help you Homer', the priest said as he knelt by his bed and reached underneath it.

'Father', Homer was making his best attempt to be gentle, 'I think this might be a matter best left to me. I am not altogether sure that your particular skill set would be all that valuable...'

O'Connor withdrew a long shallow case from underneath the bed. The case was almost the full length of the mattress and was coated in what must have been years of dust and dirt.

'You reckon the assistance of the Almighty wouldn't be valuable out there in the jungle?'

Homer grimaced, 'Father... We need to be reasonable.'

O'Connor flipped the clasps on the case and swung the lid open. Inside, cushioned in foam, was a disassembled rifle. Long and beautiful, with a polished wooden stock and gleaming oiled metal. On the base of the stock was a small etched word: "Almighty".

CHAPTER 12

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Everything was dark. There was no sound, no light. There was a complete and total nothingness. Ardia tried to remember where she was. She tried to reach out to feel for a wall or maybe the lid of a box that she might be locked in, but her arms and legs were not there.

'Where am I?'

She tried to think, to remember whatever had occurred. She had the strong sensation that something urgent had happened, or was happening, but she couldn't grasp it.

'What do you remember, Ardia?', she asked herself.

She asked herself the question over and over. 'Think back. What can you remember?

I remember my mother dying. I remember wasting time crying about it when I should have been looking for whoever was responsible. What else? I remember mailing the package to the priest in South America and then wishing I hadn't because there might have been useful information in it.'

She stopped talking to herself because she thought she heard something. It might have been a voice, a voice behind a thick wall.

'I remember hitting Abraham. Why would I do that?'

'Because he was protecting Razmik! Did Razmik kill my mother? No, but I had a clue. I found someone who knew something. Who? Razmik’s police friend?'

Images of the video suddenly flashed before her eyes, the obscene ape-like creature on the roof of her mother's house. Then another image floated in front of her. The face of a monster, hairy and beast-like, with glowing eyes. She saw a fist, gliding towards her face and then nothing.

The voice grew louder and was joined by a second. The darkness began to lift and she could see two hazy faces hanging above her.

'Ardia,' Razmik's voice called to her from far away.

'Jesus, give her some room, Raz', Abraham's voice was a little closer.

The two faces became clearer and she could distinguish the two men.

'What happened?' she asked.

'We were attacked,' said Razmik.

'We don't have the first fucking idea,' said Abraham.

'What was that... thing?' Ardia asked, bringing her hand up to clutch an aching forehead.

'I don't know,' said Razmik, 'but it was strong and very big.'

'How come we're still alive, did you kill it?' Ardia asked, trying to get up.

'Best not to stand for a while,' said Razmik.

'I'm not sure what it was', said Abraham, 'but our staying alive wasn't a priority for it. The thing threw me across the room without taking too much care about how or where I landed. I think I cracked some ribs.'

'Where did it come from, what did it want?' Ardia asked. As she looked into Razmik's eyes she could see that something had gone terribly wrong, 'No! The pilot?'

Razmik nodded slowly, 'I think that was why it came. It might not have cared whether we lived or died, but it certainly made sure that he didn't survive.'

Ardia shivered and realized that she was cold. Then she noticed that she was wrapped in a blanket and pulled it closer. The blanket was made of a hard woven material, rough beneath her fingers.

'Are you sure he’s dead?'

Abraham had the reply, 'I guess I could check his chest for a heartbeat... And then I could walk across the room and see if there is any sign of life in his face. I would check his neck for a pulse but I'm not really sure where to start looking for that anymore.'

Ardia grimaced and struggled to her feet, holding the blanket tight around her shoulders. She walked into the impromptu torture chamber and grimaced again. The walls were coated in blood, the body of the pilot was in three pieces, torn apart at the abdomen and neck, with countless smaller chunks scattered around.

'What could have done this?' she gasped. 'Raz, have you ever seen anything like this?'

Razmik shook his head, 'No.'

Abraham hesitated, 'I may have. Once.'

'Where?' the other two asked together.

'In Eastern Europe, I can't remember where exactly.'

'And who was responsible for it?' Razmik, ever practical, asked.

'The Golem, supposedly. A kind of a bogeyman in the criminal underworld out there.'

'The Golem is connected with some Jewish mythology isn't it?' Ardia asked.

'Yeah. In Eastern Europe, he is meant to be some kind of monster enforcer for a Russian gang. It is meaningless, a story only. However, while we are talking about my Jewish heritage, I would be very curious about something else.'

Ardia froze for a second and ran her fingers over the material of the blanket. She didn't look at it, she didn't really need to.

'We found the blanket in your backpack. We were trying to find something to cover you up with, you seemed to be suffering from some kind of shock.' Abraham said this while looking at Razmik who was simply standing with his back against the wall, silent.

Ardia's face was grim, 'I found it in my mother's house. I don't really think it is a blanket.'

'No' Abraham agreed. 'More of a wall hanging, I would say.'

Ardia swung the blanket from around her shoulders and held it out with both arms straightened. She looked at the cloth properly for the first time and saw what she had expected to see. It was largely red cloth, woven like a tapestry. The edges were fringed in yellow. The cloth was well worn. At the center of the wall-hanging, was a gigantic black swastika.

CHAPTER 13

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O'Connor breathed slowly, calming his heart and steadying his aim. He sighted down the scope and brought the cross-hairs to rest on the chest of one of the bandits in the camp. He did not hold his breath but simply timed it so that the trigger pull fell between breaths and heartbeats so that there was no vibration running from him to the gun. The hammer clicked softly on the dud round in the chamber of the gun and O'Connor smiled. Enough practice.

He gently slid the bolt back and slipped the dud round out of the chamber and replaced it with one of the big, mean cartridges that he had assembled personally. So many rounds that were put together by hand were done so that as much powder as possible could be packed into the cartridge. O'Connor loaded rounds by hand because he trusted his hands more than the factory. And sometimes you did need more powder, other times you needed less. This time was one of the latter.

O'Connor was here to serve as much as a distraction as he was to act as the angel of death. He had magazines of rounds that were quite light on powder so that, even though they would be lower in power, they would be quieter and would produce less of a flash. He had normal cartridges at his belt as well but really didn't expect that he would need them.

The priest turned his head to look down the line of the slope. He had full faith in his ability to shoot. What he did not have faith in was the ability of his old body to scramble from position to position and to control his ragged breathing after each dash.

He began to pray, barely audibly, looked down at the pool of light at the entrance to the camp.

With his prayer finished, he made his decision.

'Three shots, maybe four.'

He would have time to fire at least three shots before running for a new firing position. The bandits were clustered together, staying close to protect themselves from the unseen monster. They were killing their night sight with the glare from the fire and more than one of them was drunk. If he was fast he would be able to shoot at least three, if not more of them, before they got organized enough to return fire. Hopefully by the time they did begin shooting it would be at a vacated position.

'Dear God, I hope you understand that I do what I do now because I believe it is right. More than most of your servants I am sworn to fight Satan and his works. I beg you to see that I am still doing just that.'

Trying to focus on the reluctance in his heart rather than the hungry excitement in his belly, O'Connor fired, pumped the bolt, fired, pumped the bolt, fired again and pumped the bolt. After a moment of hesitation, he fired again and began to run.

From the shadows where he hid, Homer was nearly as startled as the bandits. Almost simultaneous with the eruption of blood from one of the half-hearted sentries was a distant bang. There was barely any reaction from the men until a second shot ripped through the skull of another of the bandits. Then they began to scramble to their feet, or dive to the ground. As one of the men touched the ground with his chest there was a small spray of blood from his back and he screamed and convulsed. They took cover quickly and there was no shooting for a moment. Then one more shot took the top of a man's head away. That last shot drew their attention, revealing the sniper with a flicker of fire from his distant rifle barrel and the pirates began shooting. Their automatic weapons roared as they rattled rounds off into the distant hill. More men poured out of doors and focused their attention, and their weapons, completely on the apparent location of the sniper.

Homer smiled fiercely to himself and thought that this was certainly one Almighty he could have faith in.

He had ripped the heads from the shoulders of seven of the bandits before they even became remotely aware of his presence. The sound of their weapons roaring and the distant threat left them completely distracted. When the first man shouted in terror, Homer made one more easy kill and melted back into the trees.

A hail of bullets shredded the vegetation around him and his spine felt cold with brief fear. He jinked sideways and they lost track of him, though the volleys of gunfire continued to careen into the jungle.

The bandits didn't even hear the next shots from O'Connor's rifle as men began to die again. This time he was shooting with the huge jungle moon behind him. Keeping low, so as not to produce a silhouette, the light from the moon hid most of the muzzle flash from his rifle, hundreds of yards away.

Inside in his shack, the Chief sat in his chair, boiling with hatred. Jose hovered nearby, 'It's chaos out there, Chief. The monster has riflemen hiding in the trees, They're going to whittle us to nothing.'

The Chief covered his face with his one hand, 'I think it is only one rifleman. One incredible shooter by the looks of it, Jose, but just the one. Get the men into the trees and moving towards him. He won't have an easy time dealing with their assault rifles in the crowded trees.'

'But the monster, he'll devour anyone who goes into the darkness.'

'The monster is on the other side of the camp. Send a dozen men and make them move quickly. We need that shooter dead so we can focus on the beast. He can only move so quickly, he can't get all the way around the camp in time to catch the men. Once the sniper is dead, tell them to dig in and watch all around them, including above.'

Jose nodded and went to the window to shout instructions. He opened his mouth and then gasped in shock, 'Jesus Christ! The thing is back!'

The shadowy form was indeed back, slaying the bandits that had turned to suppress the sniper.

'Well shoot it, for God's sake,' the Chief screamed, lurching to the window, his handgun belching flame at the elusive shape. In a blur, the monster was gone.

The Chief started to scream orders when the window was suddenly filled the monster's huge face. A massive hand snaked out and snatched the gun from the Chief's hand.

'You, I will save for last. We need to have a conversation.' The monster's voice was so deep that the shack seemed to shake with menace.

Then the face was gone and Jose pushed past the Chief with his rifle. The Chief elbowed Jose in the face, 'Get the fuck out of my way. We have to get things organized.'

He went to the window but did not lean out for fear of the sniper.

'Banger, Alberto! Get your boys and get into the woods after that fucking shooter. Jose is coming with you, he'll tell you what to do! Go on Jose, you fucking worm, stop gaping at me and get the fuck out there!'

'You two fucking idiots get over there. Keep your guns pointing out. Hunker down by that wall and the rifleman won't find you. You! Yes you, get to the South end of the camp and keep your bleary fucking eyes peeled. And you!....'

O'Connor watched as the chaos in the camp began to settle down. The waves of gunfire had stopped chasing him and Homer intermittently and now the bandits were organized. They had manned all angles of the perimeter. Covering fire peppered his position and Homer had no safe angle of approach.

'Well, we're not going anywhere, children. We can wait', he whispered to the distant camp.

Then he had to swallow those words as more than ten of the men charged into the woods, straight towards him. He snapped one quick shot, striking a straggler in the body and ducked back down. There were three hundred yards separating him from the oncoming bandits and his old legs would only carry him so quickly.

'Ah, shit.'

Homer watched as well, as the party sprinted into the undergrowth. There was no possible way, as fast as he was, that he could move around the camp quickly enough to kill the men before they found O'Connor.

'Oh, Father, no.'

CHAPTER 14

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Ardia had never gotten around to finding a home of her own. Her mother had been very troubled in the final years of her life and Ardia needed to be close to her. The older woman had demanded her independence, though, and cherished her solitude, so Ardia eventually moved in nearby. Having little use for a house, she had found a convenient solution and made Raz's guest house her own. The crime lord had seen very little problem with this. Where was the downside to having his most powerful enforcer within arms reach at all times?

Raz's home was everything it should be. Huge, splendid and even a little garish. What else was he to do with the volumes of cash his enterprises generated?

The three of them sat in his living room now, drinking oghi and tentatively nursing their bruises with packs of ice. Raz's elderly housekeeper, Anna, bustled in and out of the room, doing very little but keeping busy.

Abraham gently tightened the bandages binding an ice pack to his discolored ribs.

'Are they broken?', Ardia asked.

'Maybe, the doctor can tell me tomorrow. At this point, my swollen jaw is causing me more pain that my ribs.' He looked meaningfully, but not too seriously, at her as he said it.

Ardia looked away, embarrassed, and asked, 'Are we going to talk about that thing?'

Razmik shrugged, as usual, and lit a cigarette, 'We must. I suppose.'

'What was it?' Ardia said.

Razmik just shook his head, 'It did look very similar to the figure in the photograph. I believe we need to be reasonable, though. All of this “it” nonsense has to stop. It was a man, that is all it could have been. So the real question is, who was he?'

Abraham said nothing and just stared into his drink.

Ardia leaned forward, winced at some unseen injury and leaned back again, 'He was big. Very big, the tallest and the widest man I have ever seen in my life, by a very wide margin.'

Raz nodded, pushing on, 'Good. Then he should be very easy to identify. He must have been eight feet tall. He could easily have weighed more than 600 pounds, perhaps an awful lot more.'

'And he was hairy', Abraham chimed in, still not looking up.

'Very hairy, almost furry,' Ardia agreed.

'Good' said Raz. 'This man should be easy to track down, whoever he works for. Did anyone hear him speak? Was there an accent?'

'No' said Ardia.

'He grunted, no words', said Abraham. 'Why didn't he kill us as well?'

'I suppose he didn't need to,' said Ardia.

'Yes', Abraham went on, 'but he was obviously sent to kill the pilot so there would not be a trail leading us to whoever is behind all of this. There are serious questions here. Why not have us killed, given the opportunity? Why would someone invest so much time and effort into the murder of your mother? And, I can't help but be curious, why did she have what looks like an authentic antique Nazi wall hanging secreted in her home?'

Ardia shook her head and ran her hands through her disheveled hair.

Razmik cleared his throat, 'Patil came here from the North back in... Oh, I suppose it must have been around 1965, maybe a little later. Neither of us could have really been older than five or six at the time that we first met. She can't have traveled far. I think she may have walked here. The Germans never made it here during the war and Patil did not speak about her past.'

'So where did my mother get the wall hanging?'

Razmik hesitated slightly. 'I am old now, Ardia, so please keep that in mind. Patil was living in an old crate for some time and eventually the warehouse workers that used to feed her let her stay in an old outbuilding that was not in use. Sometimes, when we used to play, I would walk with her back to her nest. I cannot remember so clearly, but that may have been a blanket for her. It looks so familiar.'

'Raz, that doesn't really help answer the question of where it came from', said Ardia.

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'Yes', Razmik said. 'She did, during her outbursts, mention the German from time to time.'

Ardia's eyebrows shot up, 'Yes. She did. When she was having one of her spells, she would rant about the German.'

Abraham clapped his hands together, 'I don't really know that all of this is central to our current problems. I'm sorry I brought it up, this is really only serving as a distraction.'

Razmik nodded, 'Yes, that's right, isn't it. Maybe rest would be the best thing for us. Or at least those of us who sleep.'

Ardia smiled, 'I think even I will sleep tonight, Raz.'

Razmik drained his glass and made to get up when Anna crept over with a small stack of letters. Razmik looked at them and shrugged, 'Why not, it will give me an excuse to smoke another cigarette before I sleep.'

He lit a cigarette while Ardia and Abraham each topped up their glasses.

'Ardia', Razmik said, 'it seems you have mail.'

Ardia looked at the extended envelope, briefly perplexed, 'What? Oh, maybe the priest has replied to me?'

Razmik raised his eyebrows as he passed her the letter, 'Patil's priest? Have you also taken to performing your act of repentance via correspondence, Ardia?'

Ardia smiled, 'I think my mother shared an awful lot with this priest and he might know things that you and I don't. She left a package for him before she died and I decided to send it to him in the hopes that, maybe, I could strike up some kind of relationship with him. If anyone knows anything about my mother's past that might help find her killer, then this priest is as likely as anyone to be able to help.'

Razmik nodded and smoked as he leafed through his own mail, paying very little attention to it as he furtively watched Ardia read her letter. Abraham's cell phone rang and he dragged himself into the hall to answer it.

Ardia lay the letter on her lap and looked to Razmik, whose only response was to raise an eyebrow.

'He wants to meet me. He says he may know things that could help us.'

'Okay.'

'Raz, he wants to meet us in Manaus, in Brazil.'

Razmik just shrugged, 'Okay.'

CHAPTER 15

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The bandits raced up the hillock towards O'Connor. With the trees providing a screen, the old man was only able to fire a couple of shots, producing his first misses of the night. Homer watched for a moment, from the other side of the camp, and made to move around the perimeter and then stopped. That would be impossible. He needed to cover the shortest distance between two points to have any hope of helping the priest.

The bandits on the perimeter of the camp were too startled to shoot at first when he burst out of the trees. None of them had ever really seen him clearly and now, leaping through the air, fifteen feet above the ground, he was truly a terrifying sight. After a heartbeat, they started shooting. The gigantic creature crashed onto the corrugated roof of one of the buildings and slid, using his momentum to maintain forward progress, while staying very low. As he slid to the end of the roof, his gigantic leg muscles exploded, driving him through the air.

The air around him was like an upside down rainstorm, with bullets screaming past him as he soared through the air. He reached his gigantic arms forward and took hold of the camp's massive radio antenna and catapulted himself forward, over the opposite perimeter of the camp, and into the safety of the trees. The antenna, crippled by the trauma, trembled and fell behind him.

The bandits continued to shoot at where he had disappeared for a moment and then stopped. They all waited, eyes locked on the tree swaddled hill. They listened in the suddenly overwhelming silence. The only sound they could hear was the occasional distant shout of the men that were racing towards the sniper.

The Chief himself slowly paced out of his shack, mouth open, waiting and listening. A bead of sweat ran down his face. He could bear to lose the men in the jungle if they could only kill the sniper first. With the rifle removed from the equation, then the monster would be a one-dimensional problem.

O'Connor stumbled through the trees, scrabbling as quickly as he could. He could hear the distant footfalls of the bandits as they rapidly gained on him. He fell and sprawled as his old legs gave out for a moment. Getting up, he could not tell which way was which and just dashed headlong.

Suddenly there was s man in front of him and he was staring at the dangerous end of an AK-47.

The chief stared towards the hill, holding his breath. When he heard the burst of automatic fire, he pumped his one fist and the men cheered. Even all of their voices combined, though, could not drown out the sudden and terrible scream that pierced the jungle.

O'Connor touched his ear and felt the blood. The burst had missed, or almost missed, he supposed, but it was good enough for him. Homer stood across the tiny clearing with the lifeless bandit dangling from one gigantic arm.

'Sit down, Father. Right by that tree. This won't take long.'

With that, Homer disappeared into the shadows and the screams began to tear through the peace of the night.

O'Connor gripped the Almighty and stalked back to the crest of the hill. The camp below was ripe.

The screams were bad enough but when the terrible rifle began to belch death once again, the camp shattered. The men ran. Some of them kept their guns, others threw them aside. The men scrambled for the river, for the boats. The Chief screamed for them to stop, but he wasn't heard. As they ran, the rifle rained death on the men. Others were yanked into the shadows by the invisible monster to die screaming and gurgling.

The Chief stumbled after his men, screaming for their return. The few men who survived leaped into their riverboat and the engine roared to life.

'No! Come back!' the chief was closer to sobbing than screaming as he continued to hobble to the little wooden dock. He shuffled over to a small dinghy with a little outboard engine and began to struggle with the rope that secured the craft. As he tried to untie the rope, he turned periodically to shout at the departing boat, 'Call Him. Call the German!'

He mumbled bitterly to himself as he finally pulled the knot open, 'They won't call him. Of course, they won't call him.'

He climbed into the dinghy and pulled the cord, but the engine just spluttered. Thrown off balance, with no second arm to secure himself, he fell to a sitting position. A shadow fell across the dinghy and he looked up.

'We need to share some words', Homer growled.

The old man composed himself as best he could. He trembled slightly and his eyes were glassy, but his voice barely shook, 'Just be done with it, monster. Finish the job you started twenty years ago and let it be over.'

'That is exactly what we need to talk about.'

'Don't talk about it, don't talk about anything, just fucking kill me already. Please Christ, let's just get this over with!'

The monster leaned close and the Chief was suddenly surprised at how human the face looked. Those were human eyes, and that was a human nose. The head was too large, yes, but it was more man than beast.

The beast said, 'I hadn't even been born twenty years ago.'

'That's not possible. I met you... You took my arm away...'

'How sure are you of that?'

The old man looked down at his feet as he sat in the dinghy. He looked back up into Homer's face and really examined it. 'You look more like a man than an animal...'

'Thank you,’ said Homer.

'Ah... I remember the face that looked in my eyes while my arm popped out of its socket. I won't ever forget it. It might grow fainter as my mind grows older. The eyes were different. They almost glowed, and they were orange. Your eyes are brown, monster. There's less hair on your face... God, how many of you are there?'

Homer grabbed the man by his shirt collar and dragged him out of the dinghy, 'I think you may have met my father. You might find this hard to believe, but I want to see him dead a lot more than you do. You're going to help me with that.'

The Chief looked at the monster with faint hope, 'Then you're not going to kill me?'

Homer said nothing to that.

O'Connor could not believe his eyes as he hauled his weary body into the cabin in the bandit camp. The Chief was sitting, unrestrained, on a wooden chair while Homer sat across the room. Homer had clearly sat on a steel bunk to begin with, but now all that was left was a mattress and a tangle of crushed metal. He was curiously poking at a big handgun while the old man talked, like a child fiddling with a puzzle.

'Homer, for God's sake, be careful with that!'

Homer looked up, perplexed. The Chief shot to his feet, 'You! The old Padre? You were the shooter?'

Homer growled deeply, but casually, and the Chief immediately sank back into his chair. O'Connor ignored the other old man and took the gun from Homer. He ejected the magazine and checked the chamber, saw that it was already clear, and wearily handed the gun back to his ward.

'There, now you can play with it.'

Homer grunted and waved his hand impatiently to the Chief, who took the signal and resumed his story.

'He told us the thing would be dangerous. But there were twelve of us, all well seasoned, and very well armed. How dangerous could it be?' He patted his vacant shoulder and shook his head.

'Who told you it would be dangerous?' O'Connor said.

'He doesn't know', Homer said and waved at the Chief again, this time bobbing his whole body in a “giddy-up” motion.

The Chief stammered on, 'We tracked it easily enough. The thing itself left no trace of its passing, like a ghost. But all we had to do was follow the rumors. Women assaulted in the little villages. All of them dying or dead by the time they were found. Fucked to death by the monster. Came across some of the bodies myself, as the days went by. They were beaten, mauled, bitten, crushed. But they were raped as well, every last one.'

There was a very distant shout outside the cabin and Homer gracefully came to his feet, 'Wait a moment. I will be back.'

He melted out through the door and O'Connor coolly leveled his rifle at the Chief, 'I killed nearly as many men tonight as he did, so don't think you should take your chances with me.'

'I know', said the chief, 'I was counting the bodies drop for a while. That was some incredible shooting, Padre. Never seen the likes of it.'

O'Connor nodded slightly.

'What kind of a priest are you?'

O'Connor said, 'The worst and the best, depending on what you need.'

'Where'd you learn your shooting?'

There was a terrible scream outside and O'Connor waited for it to subside, 'Here and there. Here and there.'

The Chief looked at the door as the monster slid back into the room, 'I think you missed twice during the whole night. That's pretty special, Padre.'

'Enough', Homer growled. 'Continue your story.'

The old man pursed his lips and stared at the ground, 'We figured it was actually targeting the villages. We couldn't keep up with it, not even close. So we set up watch on a village it hadn't attacked yet. Your village. Jesus Christ, but we were well set up. The thing was worth a fortune to us, early fucking retirement, so we committed. The villagers themselves went to and fro for days while we watched and never even had an inkling we were there. But the monster, it knew. Before it moved on the village, it moved on us.'

'Yes, yes, attacked you, pulled your arm off,' Homer grunted.

'Pulled it off like a child pulls the legs off a spider!' the Chief spluttered. 'Enjoyed the shit out of it.'

'And then what?' Homer dropped the pistol on the mattress, tired of trying to squeeze his massive fingers into the trigger guard.

'What do you mean and then what? You think I know what happened next? Three of us survived the attack and I didn't wake up properly for more than a week. A fucking miracle I survived at all. We quit after that. Me, and the boys that were left, just set up shop here and forgot all about the monster.'

'Why here?' O'Connor asked, 'I would have gone as far from here as I could.'

'I wasn't afraid. I wanted to prove it. And when I stayed, the others could hardly back off, could they? The one-armed man had no fear of the monster that crippled him. How could they?'

'And where did the monster go then?' Homer asked. 'That's what I care about.'

'I don't know. Dropped off the face of the earth a few days later. Never heard of it again, until a few weeks ago. But that was you, I suppose.'

'And you know nothing else?' Homer asked.

'Not a thing.'

'Then we're finished with you!' The giant pulled a jagged tube of steel from the mangled bed and moved towards the Chief.

'Homer!' O'Connor cried.

Homer looked at the priest, a little bashfully, and then down at his feet with shame. He looked like a child caught stealing cookies, fidgeting with the would-be murder weapon.

'We won't kill him in cold blood, Homer. He can come with us to Manaus. He must be wanted by the authorities. We can leave him somewhere he can be found by them.'

The Chief exhaled a massive sigh of relief and held his legs together to hide the urine stain on his pants.

CHAPTER 16

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The car rolled to a gentle halt by the pavement. Rain spattered steadily on the windscreen. Abraham turned around to face the back seat, resting his elbow on the back of the front passenger seat.

'All set?'

Razmik shrugged and Ardia nodded.

She said, 'Thank you, Abraham.'

'Hey, it's my job. Driver, bodyguard and human cigarette case.'

Ardia smiled, 'Not for the ride. For going to Europe.'

'Why not for the ride?'

'You know what I mean. Be careful.'

Abraham said, 'I'll be right as rain. It's two birds with one stone, Ardia. There are plenty of buyers and sellers out there that it can't hurt to become better acquainted with.'

'If this Golem is real, though, you could-'

He held a hand up to cut her off, 'Worry not, Ardia. Just let the two of you enjoy your South American vacation. Bring me back a sombrero.'

'I think that's Mexico', said Ardia.

'If that's the case, then bring me back a beautiful Brazilian whore. In fact, forget the sombrero, one way or the other.'

Razmik snorted with impatience and opened the door of the car, 'Come on. Enough chattering.'

Ardia paused as she slipped out of the car, 'Thank you, Abraham.'

He just nodded his acknowledgment and rolled down his window as Razmik stepped close. The older man put his hand on Abraham's shoulder and said, 'Do be careful, Abe. You're much more use to me alive. I'll wind up genuinely quitting cigarettes if you get yourself hurt.'

'You too boss, you too', Abraham smiled and slowly pulled away.

'Come on', Razmik said and headed towards the main terminal of the airport.

Ardia walked alongside him, 'Are you sure you can spare this time Razmik?'

'The business won't fall apart without me for a few days, Ardia, and for the last time, your mother was special to me as well. Try not to think of this as a personal favor and more as though we are both pursuing a shared vendetta.'

'Did you manage to arrange any protection in Manaus?'

'I have something set up, nothing too spectacular I imagine. I was put in touch with a guy who deals guns to some of the local operators and he will have something waiting for us. I wouldn't be too excited about it, though. We are very unlikely to need protection in any case.'

'You have enemies in South America, Raz.'

'I have enemies everywhere, Ardia. Nobody there knows what I look like or that I am even coming. The guns are just a precaution.'

Ardia still felt insecure. Her shoulders shivered with her unique sixth sense and, glancing around as they stepped into the terminal, she thought she glimpsed the very distant shape of a man on a rooftop.

CHAPTER 17

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'You will have to get out soon, Homer.'

The truck trundled along the as the three sat in the back. The ever-dependable Carlos sat in the cab. He wasn't aware of the hairy monster that had hitched a ride, he was nervous enough about transporting the captured bandit chief.

Homer seemed edgy as he looked out at the thinning jungle.

'It could be a lot worse, Homer', O'Connor chuckled, 'at least Manaus is basically in the jungle. Most cities lie in the middle of open space, with not a tree in sight for miles.'

Homer shivered at that and continued to gaze out through the tear in the canvas of the army surplus vehicle, 'At least it's getting dark.'

'Remember, Homer, there is no such thing as real dark in the city. There will be lights everywhere.'

'There will be shadows everywhere as well, Father.'

They rode and jostled in silence for another few minutes before O'Connor decided to produce a sheet of dirty paper, 'I have something to pass the last few minutes, Homer.'

Homer's eyebrows shot up, 'More? From the diary?'

O'Connor smiled as the gigantic hands gently and deftly snatched the page from him and the gigantic back turned away and hunched over as Homer began to read.

'It's not the very next entry. I can't decipher some of the pages at all because the handwriting is too shaky or they are too smudged. If I was more familiar with that alphabet I am sure I would be much better but... Anyway, this is several months after the first entry.

2nd (I think) of February, 1968

I am eating bread and meat and drinking milk while I write this. Razmik brought me the food and the men in the warehouse let me have the milk. The fat man in the warehouse would give me more, but I would have to do things. I don't know what those things are, but I do know I don't like him.

Razmik has really made me happy since we met. He is showing me the things I will need to know in order to stay alive now. He is so quick and clever. Today he showed me how to take money from someone's pocket, without them even feeling it. We practiced for hours. He can do it so easily and so quickly. I still can't do it.

I know that every trick I learn will help me find the old doctor.

I keep wanting to tell Razmik about the doctor and my old home. But I either lose my courage, or he rushes off to some new game. I am already starting to forget some of the things about the old place.

It was in the mountains. I know I couldn't find my way back there, but I will figure out a way. After the fighting, most of us ran away. The guards who weren't dead or trying to save themselves tried to catch us, but most of us got away. We couldn't stay together, there was too much chaos, especially with the things everywhere.

I knew there was a secret way out through the doctor's office, so I ran in there. Before I could open the secret door I heard one of the monsters coming. There was nowhere to hide so I pulled down the cloth he kept on the wall, like a curtain with no window. I hid under the cloth in the corner. The door of the office opened and I could feel the big monster walk around quickly. I heard one growly voice say 'He's not here.' Then the other growly voice said ‘He not be happy'.

I heard them walk away and eventually I was able to get up and run. I opened the secret door and ran down the tunnel, carrying the blanket around my shoulders.

It was dark when I got out of the gate and I just kept running and running. Most of the time I was running downhill. The ground was rough and I kept falling, but I was so afraid of the things that I didn't care. After a very long time, hours and hours I think, I stopped trying to get away. Then I was just plain scared of everything. I was under some trees and there were small noises everywhere and it was just too dark to see. I hid between a big stone and the roots of a big tree and I fell asleep with the blanket covering me. It made me feel a little safer.

When I woke up, it was bright, and I could see that I had slept at the very edge of the woods. As I looked down the slope, I could see two rivers were meeting together. I had only ever seen rivers in books. They were so beautiful. On my right, far away, I could see a huge mountain. It was beautiful too. It looked like a giant had taken a bite out from the top of the mountain so the mountain had two points, like horns.

And behind me, somewhere, was the place with the doctor. Someday, I was going to go back there.

The Chief just sat, staring at the others, with his hands bound and mouth gagged.

'We are closing in on the Hotel, Homer. Best get out now. We won't be moving too quickly for you. Stay high and unseen and everything will be okay', O'Connor said.

Homer grunted uncertainly and melted out through the opening at the end of the truck.

Homer bound into a space between two buildings and quickly scaled to the roof. He moved to the edge of the building and looked out. His first real view of the city took his breath away, filling him with horror and wonder in one vista.

There truly was no night. Electric lights pierced the darkness in what seemed like a greater multitude than the stars in the jungle sky. Lights moved near and far along all the roads and everywhere there were noises of people. It was, in one way, similar to the jungle, except that the incessant noise of the jungle animals had been replaced by the continuous garbled drone of humanity.

'There are still shadows, though, Father', Homer whispered as he gazed down at the truck.

He bound from rooftop to rooftop as he followed the meandering truck, easily keeping pace. As each minute passed, he had to climb higher and higher as the buildings grew ever taller.

Hunched on the very edge of a tiled rooftop, he looked down on the heads of the people below, 'They barely look around at all. They are even less connected to their world than the villagers and the bandits. I could walk alongside them and they might not even notice me. '

The truck started to move again, as a glowing light in front of it changed from red to green. Homer bound after it. He felt like a man might feel wandering around the alien mother ship; lost, alone, afraid and utterly enthralled.

O'Connor had thought twice about bringing Homer on the excursion, but he could now see that his reservations were baseless. He knew the giant creature was following him, must be directly above him, but never even caught a glimpse as they covered the final leg of the journey. Carlos pulled the truck over, fifty yards from the hotel, and the truck quietly squeaked to a halt.

O'Connor lowered himself from the vehicle and walked up to the cab of the vehicle.

'Hey, Padre, you won't take too long, eh?' Carlos asked, his eyes darting to the back of the truck.

'No, Carlos, not too long. An hour, I think, should do it. I confirmed with the authorities that the man in the back is wanted. If I'm not finished in an hour then continue to the mission and just stop at the police station. They will be very glad to take him off your hands.'

'Eh, why not just go straight to the police, Padre? We could get rid of him now, no?'

O'Connor was expressionless, 'By all means, Carlos. You were the one who didn't want me wandering the streets of Manaus on my own. I am very confident I will be alright. I have an angel watching me. You go along and I can meet you at the Mission later.'

'Eh...'

'See you soon, Carlos. God bless.'

Carlos watched the priest casually stroll up the street and through the door of the hotel.

'Okay Padre, one hour. Yeah, nothing bad is gonna happen in an hour.'

CHAPTER 18

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The town car pulled off from the sidewalk as soon as Raz got in. Ardia had only been half aware of his approach as she looked out the window at the buildings. Manaus was captivating. Beautiful architecture and skyscrapers were separated from wooden shanties by only a few minutes of driving. As their plane had descended in the evening light, she had seen the jungle almost swallowed the city. Somewhere out there, behind the dark curtain of the night, was the jungle.

'Did you get lucky?' Ardia asked.

Razmik looked at the partition that divided them from the driver and raised an eyebrow.

'He can't hear anything', Ardia assured him.

'Hmmm. I got taken for a fool, Ardia.'

'How?'

'The idiot dealer took me for a tourist and all he had were these. Cost a small fortune as well', Razmik said, as he handed her a cloth wrapped bundle. It was heavy, very heavy.

'What's in here?'

'Take a look.'

Ardia unwrapped the cloth to reveal two completely unused revolvers. The guns were massive and she said so, 'My God. These must weigh five pounds each.'

Raz snorted, 'And where the fuck am I supposed to put it. It will pull my pants down if I try to stick it in the waistband.'

Ardia smiled wanly as she opened her handbag. The gun barely squeezed inside, 'The benefits of my feminine ways, Raz. You should buy a briefcase. Put yours in your luggage for now. Where did these come from?'

'I don't know. The dealer bought a case of them because there was some demand from the macho idiots he sells to. But when the fools started injuring themselves with recoil and escaping gases, he found himself with a dozen unwanted handheld elephant guns. He saw me coming a mile away and insisted he had nothing else.'

Ardia shrugged, a Razmik style shrug, 'Hey, it will suit me fine.'

Razmik wrinkled his nose, 'I knew you would find this funny. There are five cartridges in the cylinder. I have a pocket full of spares. You want some?'

Ardia accepted a handful of gigantic bullets, 'I don't think I will need them. No double taps with this monster.'

Razmik shrugged involuntarily and slouched in the seat. He knocked on the partition once the guns were out of sight and the driver slid it down.

'How far are we from the Hotel?'

'Couple minutes, sir.'

'Know anywhere I can buy a briefcase at this hour.'

The driver didn't say anything for a second and Razmik spared him, 'Nevermind.'

The Hotel was a respectable, but unspectacular, looking building from the outside. They stepped out of the car and Razmik told the driver that he had at least an hour to spare if he wanted to get something to eat.

'Here we go', said Ardia, suddenly uncertain.

'Yes. Don't be nervous. We can't possibly come out of this knowing less. The worst case scenario is this was just a costly vacation.'

They crossed the street towards the Hotel when Ardia felt a tingling at the back of her neck and glanced up. She could have been mistaken, was probably mistaken, but for a split second, she thought she caught sight of a huge man-shape on the roof of the building opposite the Hotel.

'Raz...'

'Yes, Ardia?'

'You... You go on inside and find the priest. I want to check something.'

'Something safe or something dangerous, Ardia?'

'Nothing to worry about, seriously Raz, just go on in. I won't be more than a minute.'

She walked casually down the street, away from the hotel. She went down the street until she rounded a corner and was out of sight, then hurriedly crossed the street and stalked back towards the building where she had seen the shape. She was careful to remain completely out of sight of the rooftop. When she reached the building she ducked into the dark alleyway and drew the gigantic handgun from the handbag.

'Well Raz, this monstrosity might have been a better choice than you could have imagined.’

CHAPTER 19

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Razmik pushed through the doors of the hotel and wandered into the hotel bar. Lounge music of a Latin flavor was playing, though the bar itself looked like any of a thousand that he had ever walked into in hotels from America to Europe. The big room was dimly lit. His eyes scoured the room for a priest's collar and found none. There was only one other patron in the bar, a hard-looking old man in a worn out jacket, and Razmik decided to sit down a few stools over from him. The priest reportedly had a photograph of Ardia so he would find her when she arrived.

The bartender sauntered over and Razmik ordered whiskey. As the bartender passed, the old man pointed at his own glass.

'Evening', said Razmik.

'And you', said the old man, with a hint of an accent.

The bartender refilled their glasses and the old man reached into his pocket.

'No, please let me', said Razmik as he withdrew his wallet.

'I haven't been picked up in a pub for decades, and I hope you won't be offended if I were to say you're not my type', the old man smiled as he pulled a small roll of bills from his pocket. The accent was more obvious now and Razmik recognized it as Irish. He had sold weapons to paramilitary groups in Ireland in the past, old USSR Kalashnikov rifles.

Razmik smiled easily, 'A little innocent company would be a fair trade for a few drinks. You look like a man who has been around, and back around, more than once. Maybe you can tell me something about this city.'

The old man pushed the roll of bills back into his jacket pocket while Raz paid for the drinks. The old man stood up and came to sit on a stool a little closer to Raz, 'I'm afraid I'll have little enough to tell you about this place. I don't know if my accent is a giveaway or not, but I am as much a tourist here as I am guessing you are.'

Razmik extended his hand, 'Razmik.'

The old man shook it, 'Connor.'

'Well Connor, what brings you to Manaus?'

'This and that. And you Razmik? Where does that name come from?

'I am Armenian.'

The old man's eyebrows bounced on his forehead, 'You are, are you? Well now, that is something interesting. I am here to meet a young Armenian lady as it happens.'

'Ardia?'

'You're a friend of hers, then.'

'Yes. You are the last person I would have taken for a priest. Where is your collar, father?'

The priest laughed. He pulled at the edge of his jacket to reveal the white collar beneath. Then he said, 'Where is the lovely Ardia, may I ask?'

'She... will be along shortly.'

'You left her alone in a strange city?'

'Ardia can take care of herself.'

Ardia crept very slowly, like a cat, from the fire escape to the roof of the building. She stalked forward, very slowly, her sixth sense screaming of danger. There was a large concrete structure in the middle of the roof, probably stairwell access. She carefully edged her way around it, with the gigantic gun held straight and steady in front of her.

The shape came into view as she came around the structure. Her heart leaped into her throat at the sight of the thing. It was gigantic. It looked like two NFL offensive linemen rolled into one. It was covered in hair, wearing only some kind of loincloth. It was hunched over, looking down at the street, with its broad back to her.

Homer peered intently down at the street. The priest was safely inside and now he only had to wait. What he really wanted was to see the girl again, the one that had been walking with the older man. She was very beautiful, interestingly so. She was even more interesting because she seemed to be connected with the world around her. He had seen her body vibrating in response to all the little noises and movements around her. She was more in tune with her surroundings than any human, perhaps any creature, he had ever seen. Not as much as he was, certainly, but very aware. For a moment he had even thought she noticed him. But she had walked away without a second glance.

Then a female voice spoke from behind him, 'Don't move. I have a gun. A very big gun. Turn around, very slowly.'

Homer heard the slightest tremor in the voice. The tremor was fear, and that was a good thing. He also contemplated the gun as he turned to face her. Guns were definitely bad.

Ardia watched as the creature turned towards her. It was like watching a mountain begin to move. As the creature turned to face her, it contrasted with her original expectation. This was more like a man than a monster. In fact, maybe it was a man. The face was like a man's, not even an unattractive man's. But the body was so big. And the feet were more like another set of hands. She stepped a little bit closer and observed that the creature was not furry, just very hairy. The face was a little off. It looked as though someone had taken a strong male face and mixed it with an ape, but left a lot more man than ape behind. The canine teeth protruded like fangs.

'Who are you?' She demanded.

The creature spoke and she fancied the roof vibrated from the depth and power of his voice, 'I am Homer.'

'You killed my mother, Homer!'

Homer looked surprised and his little eyes flickered as though he was trying to remember, 'I don't think I have ever killed a woman.'

He took a step towards her and she waved the gun casually, 'This gun fires very big bullets, Homer. It can kill much bigger animals than you. Stay right there, I have more questions for you.'

Homer visibly bristled, 'What do you want? What is your name?'

'My name is none of your fucking business', she erupted, emotions burning inside her. 'I know you killed my mother! I can prove it! I want to know who you are working with', she was sobbing ever so slightly now, 'I want to know why she died.'

Homer didn't respond to her emotional outburst, he just cocked his head to the side, 'How can you prove something I didn't do?'

She carefully took one hand off of the gun and reached into her pocket and withdrew the envelope containing the grainy photograph of her mother's killer. She slid the envelope across the roof to Homer.

'Look at that and deny it.'

Homer picked up the envelope. She was amazed at the grace with which his gigantic fingers opened the envelope and withdrew the picture. He looked at it for a moment with confusion, then his eyes widened in shock.

'My father?'

Razmik laughed wheezingly under his breath, spluttering whiskey, 'And what did you do next? You didn't-'

O'Connor cut him off, 'Well, of course, I shot him.'

The two erupted in laughter, dizzier with drink than either of them had intended to be, enjoying a very easy kinship.

'How does a man like you become a priest?'

O'Connor sobered suddenly and pursed his lips, 'You wind up doing things that you know good men don't do, you find yourself looking for the answers to some unpleasant questions. To tell the truth Razmik, I haven't spoken about that story since Confession before my Sacrament. I don't know why I told you.'

'Ah, your secret is safe with me, Connor.'

'Where is your young lady, Razmik. She's been quite a while.'

Razmik had a hint of concern, 'I thought she was checking on our security outside. I think she may have noticed someone, maybe on the rooftop. I can't imagine she could be in trouble, Ardia is very dangerous and she is armed.'

The priest's face had grown white, 'The rooftop? Sweet Jesus, he wouldn't kill her...'

'Who?'

'Homer.'

Homer towered over her, advancing quickly. She walked backwards away from him, 'I will kill you. Don't think I won't. Give yourself the opportunity to talk first.'

He didn't seem to hear her, he just continued to bellow disjointed questions about “his father”.

I don't want to shoot him yet. If he didn't act alone then he might know things about whoever caused my mother to die in that house. I have five bullets and he only has two kneecaps. I can hobble him and have three rounds left to finish the job after we talk... except... How quick is the Law here? Will they be on top of me before I've had a chance?

He came too close. She had no choice, she pulled the trigger.

CHAPTER 20

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He was fast. Maybe not as fast as she was, but so close as to almost make no difference. He jinked aside and smashed the gun from her hand and then grabbed her. The bullet missed, of course, but the report was so loud that it must have been heard for a mile all around.

Homer took hold of the little female, consumed with anger. He was shocked when he grabbed her to find that she was strong. Not just strong enough to wriggle in his vice grip, but strong enough to nearly break free. She was easily stronger than the biggest man Homer had ever laid his huge hands on.

'Where is my father? Where did you see him? Where is this picture?', he shouted question after question at her.

'Armenia', she grunted as she pulled an arm free and struck him. This was a very new experience for Homer. The blow snapped his head back and he crashed to the ground, stars spinning in front of his face. She danced forward to kick him as he bounced back to his feet. She only scored a glancing blow on his massive shoulders as he rose, which served to unsteady her footing rather than impact him.

Homer swung his massive fists towards her. Homer could throttle , and had throttled, a jaguar without ever coming remotely close to being struck by the animal's teeth or claws. He could reach out and pinch shut the mouth of a striking snake with his index finger and thumb. The female stepped past his clumsy fists with ease. She hit him again, he tensed his neck before the impact and took all of the force of the blow to his head and once more he crashed to the ground.

Ardia dove to the ground, snatched up the gigantic revolver and rolled to her back. Homer loomed directly above her. The gun swung up to point directly at his heart. This time, she couldn't miss if she tried.