INFERNO – Chapter 1
Intro
Start reading INFERNO, a dystopian DISASTER novel set in a world where the apocalypse may already be unfolding unnoticed.
Chapter text
El Cadejo, clad in forest camouflage fatigues and a fearsome black mask that allowed for augmented, enhanced vision, peered through the slit in the cell door’s view panel. The victim within—known as Lenny Smalls—dangled from manacles affixed to the ceiling. In front of the man, a portable transformer rested on a table. Clad only in fatigue pants, the large, well-muscled man struggled in his chains. He sleeps but moves, perhaps a dream. But then the man’s eyes snapped open and scanned his surroundings.
El Cadejo closed the view panel and spoke to an assistant. “Our guest is awake. Fetch the items. I will signal when I want them brought in.”
Click. Slap.
El Cadejo opened the door and strode into the room wearing the mask that had struck fear into thousands. As much as people feared the creature in the mask, the grotesque features underneath sickened those who had seen them. Most of those were dead. Everyone else knew that the black mask meant authority. Of all the masks worn by the militia, only El Cadejo’s, equipped with a voice synthesizer and enhanced optics, instilled fear. Scintillating eyes glittered in the black oval of the face. El Cadejo relished the power that came with anonymity.
“Welcome back, Sergeant Smalls,” bleated the rendered voice, the smooth purr of the original forever lost when converted to synthetic threat. The tattooed sergeant raised his hands to cover his ears against the grating sound. “Congratulations are in order. You led us on a merry chase and injured several of my men. That is something no other competitor has accomplished. If only for a few days, you brought excitement to my jaded existence. Because of your efforts, my men are better trained. They experienced jungle tactics in a live fire situation. Yes, you have made a much larger contribution to my forces than anyone who has gone before.” El Cadejo’s laugh sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard crossed with the buzz of a cattle prod.
El Cadejo approached Lenny and tested the chains. “I hope you find your accommodation comfortable. No? The chains are too tight? I will give you something to take your mind off your wrists.” El Cadejo turned and thumbed a button on the metal box. A light shone through slats in the transformer’s panel. A low hum filled the room.
“But first, I will tell you a story. Americans were supposed to rid my people of a terrible evil—the Alcalde. The man no one admits to having seen. To see the Alcalde is to meet your death. But Americans are not afraid. They come with their big men and their big guns. They will kill this man no one has seen and gain lucrative contracts for essential minerals. Things to keep American industries ahead of the Chinese.” El Cadejo’s gloved hands picked up two wires attached to the transformer. “I thought you would like to know that you failed. You—Americans, with your arrogance and puerile notions of right and wrong—hide behind democracy to justify taking what you want from the people who own it. The Alcalde, whoever he is, roams the land just as I do.” The masked figure regarded Lenny. “It could be that the Alcalde is me.” El Cadejo’s electronic cackle echoed through the room.
“You and your friend were supposed to sit in your hole, waiting for the man that no one has seen and go away when he did not come. You lose some time. Your government loses some money. My people get enough food to eat for several months. Instead, you destroyed that village, Sergeant Smalls. A village filled with old women and children.” El Cadejo attached the electrodes to Lenny. “If you had infiltrated the village, we would have captured you and your friend. Two more holes in the jungle. Who would care? Everything went to plan for six and a half days. You and your friend sat in your little hole six and a half days.” The stolid mechanical buzz broke when El Cadejo slapped Smalls. “We were careless. You remember Alba, don’t you? The lovely young woman with the grenade launcher? She was visiting her mother when she should have been with the troops. You killed her baby sister during your attack.” El Cadejo grabbed Lenny’s face. Lifeless vision augmentations glinted red in the room’s half-light. “How does that make you feel, Sergeant? Big man? Strong? Defender of democracy? Righter of wrongs? Killer of babies and old women.” El Cadejo turned away.
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“I know what that tattoo on your chest means, Sergeant. Sua sponte. Accountability. Responsibility. How does it feel to know the truth?“ asked the droning voice. El Cadejo whirled around and hit Lenny in the face again, then drew a KA-BAR serrated blade and tapped Lenny’s chest with the point. “Maybe I do it for you. What do you say? I carve your truth on your enormous chest for all to see. You see it whenever you look in the mirror. What woman would be with you? Pariah.” El Cadejo’s mechanical whisper fizzed in the room. “Baby killer.”
“No,” Lenny managed. “I watched. No children in the village.”
El Cadejo kicked him in the gut, followed by a snap kick to his chin. Blood trickled from Lenny’s mouth. “No, that would be too easy for you.” El Cadejo sheathed the knife. “Your friends are dead. All of them. You failed utterly. No one is coming to rescue you.” The crackle of static emphasized Lenny’s failure.
Lenny sagged, his wrists cut by the steel manacles as they took his full weight. “It can’t be. I heard the chopper go.”
“What could you hear, Sergeant? Gunfire? Rain? I saw the helicopter go down shortly after you fell from it. I would have brought you the bodies, but there are places in the jungle even I don’t go.” El Cadejo signaled to the assistant, who dropped a piece of scorched aircraft aluminum and the burned, tattered tunic of Lenny’s squad mate.
“It isn’t…can’t be…true.”
“Of course it’s true. Should I bring the mourners to testify about their dead children or the Suisca tribe to bring the remains of your friends? Your stubbornness amazes me. Well, let us talk about something else.” Another hideous laugh bounced around the room.
“What do you want?” asked Lenny.
“You dare ask me a question? Good to see that you maintain your sense of humor. If I were in your position, I would not be so lighthearted. I have everything—money, power, and you. I hold your life in the palm of my hand.” One gloved hand pointed to the palm of the other, followed by a crushing gesture. “Now, I have a question for you. Do you believe?”
Lenny looked up. He opened his mouth and closed it, then looked down again.
He is weak. El Cadejo picked up the wires. “I am connected.” The sinister tone got lost in the staccato of hard consonants that taxed the renderer. “I know everything that happens here. That which I do not own, I control. That which I do not control, I kill. This makes life very simple. As you Americans say, it is good to be the king. The question remains: do you believe?”
“Why do you care? You’re going to kill me whether or not I tell you.”
“You think to trouble me by not answering my question? It will not trouble me. I am happy to kill you now if you’d like. The answer to the question is important to your life, not mine. Do you believe?”
Lenny shook the chains that bound him and spoke in a weak, fading voice, “I am not what you say.”
“Sergeant, I am not patient. I need to know what you value. No matter what you think about yourself, you are evil, a killer. You have committed atrocities. Who knows what other deeds lurk in your past? Yet, despite all you have done, I see value in you.” The softening tone came out in lowered volume, soulless and dead. “You could make a difference here, maybe even redeem yourself. If you join me, you could make amends for your sins. Help me build something better for the people here. Give something back to this community. Join me.”
The chains clinked as Lenny stood. El Cadejo saw resolve in Lenny’s eyes as he thrust out his chin. “No,” he said in a firm, clear voice. “I will not join you. I believe.”
Surprising and disappointing. El Cadejo raised eyebrows Lenny couldn’t see, shrugged, and pronounced Lenny’s sentence with metronomic precision. “Know that you will suffer here and in the next world. I will advise the authorities of your actions in the pueblo and erase any vestige of goodness associated with your name. There is one more thing. I promised to help you take your mind off the pain in your wrists. Before we are done, you will beg for the shrapnel that killed those children, for my blade to pierce your heart. Pray if you will. There will be no mercy for you.” El Cadejo turned a dial on the transformer.
Screams emanated from the room behind the unmarked door. El Cadejo listened with indifference to the madness, heard footsteps, and turned to see Fernando, the assistant, approach.
“Jefe, I don’t mean to question you. These orders. Are they correct? Are you sure you want to let him go? He is dangerous and killed our best men. Shouldn’t we kill him?”
“No, Fernando. Think with strategy. You see a threat. I see a pawn on the chessboard. We never know when a pawn has to be sacrificed. Besides, what power does this man have? What story can he tell? He saw the black dog with red eyes? He saw the devil?” The cackle strained the modulator’s ability to render. “People will think him crazy, that he spent too much time in the sun. He killed my Alba and burned down my home. There is a special place in Hell for Sergeant Smalls. He is there now. I have given him scars that not even God can heal. He will carry the memory of what he did here forever. There is no greater punishment for puritans like him. The hero has become the devil. He will hear screams in his nightmares until he breathes his last.” El Cadejo peeked through the viewport.
“When he has suffered a while, take him away. Leave no lasting marks. A few bruises or cuts, dehydration will suffice. The small things people associate with time in the jungle. It is important there be no other marks on him. You understand?”
“Yes, Jefe. You always know best. I will take the gringo and dump him when he has enjoyed your hospitality a while longer.”
“Good. When you return, we will leave this place for a while. There will be no traces. If anyone comes to investigate, they will find nothing. They will find only the ghosts that haunt his mind. If they do not imprison him with the insane, he will wander the world shunned by all, a pariah.”
El Cadejo strolled into the underground bunker’s command center, sealed the door, and removed the mask with a welcoming sigh. She let down her lustrous black hair and rolled her head to loosen her shoulders. Alba considered the mask, its electronics giving it more heft than was otherwise apparent. “My love, you have your victory over the American. His head has joined your collection in spirit. Tell the rest of your heads when you see them. It had to be this way. You suffered a fate worse than death—living the life of the undead. Now that I have taken your place, I will run your empire and achieve all that we dreamed of. Rest in peace, my love. I have assured the American will never rest. If I see him again, he won’t live to regret it.”