101 People to Kill Before I Die Page 26

  "All right, all right, enough. We had a fight. I never want to see that asshole again. I left him in Maffra."

  Vadim looked up at Boris.

  "What do you think?"

  Boris smiled.

  "I think they had a fight. I think she drove off with all the weapons. Why else would she have them? But not from Maffra. They would have caught him if he was there. And we haven’t heard anything. No. She’s lying. Somewhere else."

  Vadim shrugged and moved in to grab Natasha again. This time he was really going to hurt her, permanently. But Boris stopped him. He'd picked up the mobile phone and had been examining it. He said to Vadim,

  "Don’t worry about it. We have all we need."

  Vadim looked puzzled. He asked,

  "What?"

  Boris replied,

  “She has him as a contact.”

  He held the phone out, so that Vadim could see.

  'Brian.'

  Vadim still looked puzzled. Boris explained.

  "He'll have her as a contact too. We'll use the phone. He'll come looking for her, and his weapons. Probably already on the way. We'll call him. Arrange a meeting somewhere."

  Vadim asked,

  "How? We can’t use her, she'll scream or something. We can’t call him ourselves."

  Boris was thinking. He had a plan. Simple but effective.

  "Not here, Not now. We'll try it tomorrow from the Strip Club. We'll get someone there to make the call. Brian will still think it’s from her. It’s a known location. Public. Minimize suspicion. We'll be waiting for him."

  Natasha was still seated on the couch, hands tied behind her back. Her face was already starting to swell up. It was very painful. She knew she'd be massively bruised for weeks. She felt sick in her stomach. She'd been listening to their conversation with growing concern. She didn’t want these assholes to find Brian.

  Vadim asked Boris,

  "So, do we need her anymore?"

  Boris replied casually,

  "No."

  Vadim attached the silencer to his pistol and before Natasha could begin to object or to plead or to do anything at all he shot her in the head three times killing her instantly.

  Chapter 21. Cygni Alpha Prime.

  Cygni Alpha Prime was an earth-like planet orbiting the largest star in a small system of three red dwarf stars only seventy-nine light years from Earth. It was inhabited by the KraarkAvarkians, a successful and very war-like species who had already conquered several nearby star systems. The population of the planet was eighty-seven billion and growing rapidly. There were several billion more of them spread out over the planets they'd conquered. Their level of technological advancement was, unfortunately, far beyond that of the humans on Earth. Their military technology was harsh and ferocious. Their hearts were hardened by untold millennia of war and death, conquest and plunder. They were bellicose, belligerent and rabidly xenophobic. They had evolved from primitive amphibian creatures, frog-like, though under the selective pressures of convergent evolution were now humanoid in appearance - two legs, two arms, a head, a trunk and an ass. They were sensitive about their asses. It was not something one referred to openly. They were shorter than humans, about four feet high, with moist slippery greyish skin and large black mournful eyes. Mammals had never taken off on their planet. In the early struggle for survival they'd all been eaten by the frogs.

  His divine majesty the Emperor DarkTark was seated on his imperial throne at the front of a vast hall. The hall was filled to overflowing with courtiers and guests - thousands of them. They were there to celebrate the Emperor's ninetieth birthday, and the twentieth year of his reign as Emperor and Supreme Commander. He looked truly regal, sitting on his diamond studded solid gold throne, although starting to show his age and looking a little portly. He was extremely pompous in all things, petty and vain, and always serenely confidant in his own mind that he was the best there ever was at anything of any importance. And none dared to contradict him. Always pugnacious, he was outright vicious and vindictive when he perceived himself to be under attack. Which was often enough. He was very thin skinned and even more self-conscious about his ass than most KraarkAvarkians. He was elaborately dressed, mostly in light blue which he, and only he, thought best complemented his distinctive unruly schlock of bright orange hair. The hair was due to some freakish genetic twist, very rare. Until only minutes ago they'd all been in a wild and joyful mood. They'd been watching the Adventures of Little Prince MarkTark, the emperor's beloved grandson, on screens placed around the Hall. The Adventures of the Prince was one of the most popular channels in the Life on Earth reality TV series.

  Off to the side was a carefully selected group of females from the emperor's personal harem. All females were owned by males as property in KraarkAvarkian society. They had no rights. They were kept permanently in the nude. Locked in collars. Leashed. Regarded as barely KraarkAvarkian. The Emperor of course was always boasting that he owned the most, the best, and the prettiest. There were a few geldings attending the females. These were former males who had opposed or disagreed with the Emperor. They were a sorry lot. Once clipped and collared they were forced into their new life, grooming and bathing the females, attending to their needs. They were also kept in the nude, permanently. It was an absolute disgrace for them. They were abandoned and disavowed by family. Reviled by one and all. It was a fate worse than death and one universally feared by all KraarkAvarkians.

  The KraarkAvarkians had never bothered conquering Earth. One very enterprising KraarkAvarkian, Lord General KrevarkLark, a few centuries earlier, had come up with a different approach which turned out to be very lucrative. He'd had the planet's surface saturated with trillions of Nano-sized surveillance devices. He then had a small wormhole constructed facilitating easy transport to and from Earth and enabling near instantaneous audio-visual transmission to and from the devices. Back on Cygni Alpha Prime he built up a new network television series which came to be known as ‘Life on Earth’. It was stunningly successful. There was something about the monkeys that was just so fucking hilarious. Billions of interactive channels were available. Customers could control the devices, follow characters of their choice. Artificial Intelligence programs (AIs) helped them connect the characters together and follow various plot lines. There were a few pre-edited channels centered on particular themes. By far the most popular of these was 'The Adventures of Little Prince MarkTark'. General KrevarkLark had made trillions of Kraarkmarks out of the enterprise. He retired into a life of splendor, purchased a huge mansion on his own private Island, filled his harem with the prettiest of females, and had a few of his failed competitors gelded and added to his harem as attendants. Life was good. He died many decades later, admired by all, a very happy and successful KraarkAvarkian.

  Everybody in the hall watched with shock and horror as Little Prince MarkTark was murdered. He was such a lovable little guy. He'd been on Earth for several years, just wandering around. He was twenty-two years old but still very young for his age, silly and immature. And he did have some inexplicably bad habits. But these were overlooked as youthful fully. Nothing he deserved to die for. He was universally adored. Only a few hours earlier they'd all roared with laughter when he hacked into the monkeys' little toy combat drones and made them go haywire, inserting into them some low-level AI and a healthy dose of malevolent intent. Now the network was replaying his death over and over again. Around the planet billions of more KraarkAvarkians were tuning in, watching on, breathless and horrified. The poor little guy approached one of the humans, reaching out his open hand, in a traditional gesture of friendship. The human jumped up and shot him dead. That those primitive metal projectiles were able to break through Prince MarkTark's shield was troubling enough. It was a given that the owners of the PersonalShields company would be heavily fined and that all their workers would be tortured and executed. But the focus of their rage was on the human who had just killed the young prince, clearly identified with an overlay tag - Brian Samuals
.

  Throughout the hall and around the planet the KraarkAvarkians started chanting,

  "Krrak nevark vark, Krrak nevark vark, Krrak nevark vark."

  [ Kill Brian. Kill Brian. Kill Brian.]

  The emperor listened with approval to the chanting for some time and then opened his mouth to speak. There was instant silence. He turned to his adviser standing beside him, Lord KraakFark. He asked him quietly,

  "Krraark vark nark falark aak aak"

  [ How long does it take for our battleships to get to Earth through the wormhole?]

  Lord KraakFark replied instantly,

  "Aak aak vaak gaak nark vark."

  [ Your Divine Majesty. 17 hours, 45 minutes and 20 seconds. And a few hours before that to load up stores and troops.]

  Everyone waited with bated breath. Finally, Emperor DarkTark roared out,

  "Aaak Naak Krevark Aaak Aakk Nark Vaak Laak Alaark."

  [ I want this maggot of a monkey massacred so massively that the Mother of All Frogs will smile down upon us with approval and delight. I want the fucking monkey smashed into a bloody pulp, beyond all recognition.]

  The vast hall roared back their approval. The scene was broadcast across the planet. Billions of KraarkAvarkians joined in. Roaring. Screaming out. Exultant.

  One of the nearby courtiers, Lord General AvarkNark, was the Imperial Chief Military Planner. He was a cautious individual, though as it turned out, not cautious enough. He was already thinking out what kind of attack would be required. He spoke out to the Emperor,

  "Ark Vark Navark ark ark Kraak Vark."

  [ Your Divine Majesty, we can take him out in a targeted raid, maybe just blow up one of their smaller countries. 'Australia' I believe it's called. We must limit the collateral damage.]

  He couldn't say it openly but The Life on Earth TV series was worth trillions and trillions of Kraarkmarks. Most of his personal wealth consisted of shares in the company. Emperor DarkTark replied, explosively.

  "Ark Nevark krark krark ark nark Devark Devark Nark."

  [ I don’t give a fucking shit about collateral damage, blow their fucking planet out of the fucking galaxy. Dispatch our primary fleet.]

  The primary fleet consisted of 500 interstellar battle cruisers and 500,000 highly trained, heavily armed, ground assault troops.

  Lord AvarkNark just didn’t see the sense in it. He objected.

  "Ark Ark Vark Nark Vraak Quark Jevark ark ark."

  [ Your Divine Majesty! If we want to destroy the planet two or three quark bombs is enough to pulverize it back into dust. Why do we need all of these battleships and all of these soldiers?]

  The Emperor took another look at AvarkNark - seeing him truly for the first time. By the Holy Mother of all Frogs a god dam fucking liberal, here in the court itself. He caught the attention of the guards, pointed to AvarkNark, and screamed out,

  "Krevark."

  [ Gelding.]

  As the guards hauled him away, AvarkNark struggled against them, crying out,

  "Nark, Nark Anark, Nark."

  [ No. No. Oh No. No.]

  All around the planet troops were being mobilized, thousands upon thousands of them were pouring into shuttles ready to transport them up to the battleships waiting in orbit. One of the things about Earth culture that the KraarkAvarkians especially admired, along with Adolf Hitler and the Klu Klux Klan, was the Evil Empire theme from Star Wars. It boomed out magnificently from speakers placed around the Transit Halls. Bom, Bom, Ba Bom, Bom. It put a swagger in the step of the thousands of troops as they marched onto the shuttles, preparing themselves for battle, dreaming of glorious deeds and ultimate victory.

  A few hours later five hundred interstellar battle cruisers, each of them ten miles long, bristling with advanced weaponry, broke out of orbit and headed for the mouth of the wormhole. Target, Earth. Estimated time of arrival 17 hours, 45 minutes and 20 seconds. The flight crew were busy with the details of final approach and injection into the wormhole. The soldiers, all five hundred thousand of them, were chanting in unison,

  "Krrak nevark vark, Krrak nevark vark, Krrak nevark vark."

  [ Kill Brian. Kill Brian. Kill Brian.]

  Chapter 22. Desperately searching for Natasha.

  I got back to Melbourne on Thursday night around 9:30 PM. The Princes Highway from Sale to Dandenong was not very busy. I didn’t see any police or military. No drones. I was constantly looking out for them. I was tempted to go back through Maffra initially and join back on to the highway later but I didn’t dare. They would still be there, cleaning up. And I decided that I didn’t want to see the devastation brought down on the place because of me. Call it guilt, regret. Whatever. The roads were busier once I got to the outskirts of Melbourne - making my way from Dandenong into the city. There were police everywhere. But they didn’t know it was me. Not yet. They'd be looking for the stolen car soon enough. I managed to find a motel in St Kilda that was still open and got a room for the night. There was nothing I could do until morning so I tried to settle down and get some sleep. It wasn’t going to be easy. Once again, I spent a lot of time staring at the roof. Must have dozed off at some point.

  I've always known there was a demon inside of me - more than one. They'd become well and truly bloated on my recent activities but not content, never content, always craving more. They appeared before me just before dawn. Seven of them. Large looming figures, sickly grey in color with fiercely red bloodshot eyes. And yeah horns. Fucking horns. Would you believe that? They called out to me,

  "Brian come unto us. Join us. The whole world shall belong to you, as so much rotting pus. All men will bow before you. All women will cling to you and licketh you in all the right places, constantly. And you need not ever die."

  I knew they were lying. And I didn’t want all women, just one. I had to find Natasha. But they wouldn't go away. They stood there before me, demanding an answer. So I said to them, rather incautiously perhaps,

  "So what's the deal assholes?"

  The biggest of the seven, clearly their leader, replied,

  "Come with us to meet Lord Beelzebub. He's been watching you. He's impressed. You can have the honor of joining his Holy Court."

  I asked, with all due skepticism,

  "Yeah. And what then?"

  The leader of the demons seemed surprised by my answer. He said,

  "Well, you get to bask in his glory. To worship him and adore him. For all of Eternity."

  I nodded my head, knowingly, sarcastically,

  "Ah, I see. Is there any dick sucking involved?"

  The demon leader reared back, astonished by my question. He roared out,

  "What?"

  I clarified myself.

  "You know, in all of this worship and adore thing."

  The leader of the demons was shocked. He barked back,

  "No. Of course not."

  I nodded my head again, a few times. Then I said,

  "Yeah. I don’t believe you. I think I'll take a pass. You can shove it."

  The leader of the demons seemed puzzled. The others too. He asked me,

  "Shove it? Shove what?"

  I snapped back,

  "Shove it up your ass. It's an expression. Well known. Jeez! Where's all that diabolical cunning you guys are meant to have. You don’t seem to be all that fucking bright from where I'm standing."

  They reared up like affronted lizards, growing in size, starting to growl, ready to lunge for me. I braced myself for the attack, also growling. Ready to give as good as I got. More would be better.

  I woke up - laughing a bit. Then I looked around. There was nothing much to laugh about. Cheap Motel. Empty bed. No Natasha. No demons, no after life. A miserable death by cancer looming and then nothing - or far more likely something sharper and more immediate, and then nothing. I knew that I'd betrayed her. Betrayed her trust. She could be anywhere but I had to find her and beg her to forgive me. And I had to find her before Boris and Vadim did. I would protect her. I would help her to escape.


  I left the car where it was - the cops would certainly be looking for it by now - and checked out of the motel. I got some donuts and cheap coffee at a cafe across the road. That would have to do. I was starving but I had more important things to attend to. I couldn't stop thinking about Natasha. So beautiful! So achingly beautiful! I had to see her again. I just had to. After all that had happened I'd come to the conclusion that I didn’t want to die after all. Not that I had any choice in the matter - and now much less than before.

  It was 9:00 AM on a Friday morning, exactly three weeks since I'd been handed my death sentence, in the Doctor's office in Sydney. It seemed so long ago. A lot had happened. I’d killed a lot of people. And now a lot of people wanted to kill me. I knew that things were coming to a head. I knew that I didn’t have long. If I could just find Natasha. That's all I wanted.

  I was only a few blocks from Uncle Charlie's place. I'd thought that I would never see him again. I walked down McCallum Street and turned into Henry Street. I was looking forward to seeing him. He might even be able to help. I approached his house. What the fuck! There was police crime scene tape across the doors. Oh no! I instantly thought the worst. And I wasn't wrong. One of his neighbors Bob Sanders saw me standing in front of the house. He was an old guy, retired. He and Charlie were good mates. He came over to me. We knew each other. He just said,

  "Brian."

  I nodded. He looked at me. He saw that I didn’t know but had already guessed the worst. He spoke to me slowly and sadly,

  "Some Russian bitch killed him. Wendy too. Three days ago. I saw her leaving. Got a good look. Gave a description to the police."

  I was devastated. I loved Charlie. Wendy? Not so much. I asked him,