Disclaimer: Seth, El Ray, Santanica Pandemonium are owned by Tarantino and Rodriguez. Sands is owned by Rodriguez, and Blackheart is owned by Marvel Comics. Technically, I do not own Alex Tully – I stole him from this television show that nobody watched called Drive, where he did play a getaway driver in a former life. I do own Xanny, Augusta and Marcos. And that's it.
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Three: Guilt
Seth Gecko did not experience Guilt.
The sensation had been alien from the start, and it did not get easier, not for one second in these last six months. Every time he closed his eyes, every time he laid back his head and let his brain unclench, it was there, floating in his brain. Mostly it began with her face – woman wouldn't have said shit if her mouth was full of it – those poor saggy eyes, that trembling mouth full of crooked teeth, the look of helplessness and terror, replaced by the faintest glimpse of hope.
Gloria, you hang in there, you follow the rules, and you don't fuck with us, and you'll get out of this alive. I give you my word.
He'd promised her, and she hadn't lasted a few hours. And it was his fault. Sure, it was Ritchie who'd actually done the deed. But he should have known better. Xanny had tried to tell him. She'd tried…
Do you want to live through this?
Ritchie…poor, sick Ritchie. Why had he ever thought that going to Mexico would take all that sickness and pain away? Because it was away from the law -- the American law, anyway. Truthfully, Ritchie wouldn't have lasted in Mexico. First woman he killed, there would have been a posse of spick-firecracker-salesmen with guns and knives ready to tear him apart, and Seth couldn't have saved him.
Ritchie was better off where he was. Here is the peace in death that I could not give you in life.
But Xanny…she'd known, and he hadn't listened. Why hadn't he listened? Because Ritchie was the most important person in the world to him, and no one else mattered. Not even a woman he claimed he loved.
Had he loved Xanny? He questioned that, repeatedly. She had been one of the flew blips in his life that had meant something, but he wasn't sure exactly what. Mostly, he questioned it because of her twin sister, Augusta.
Yeah, that was something he still couldn't untwist in his head.
Seth had never doubted himself, not once in his whole life. Not even surrounded by vampires – yes, fucking vampires! – in the middle of one of the worst shitholes in Mexico. But now everything was clouded with doubt, and it made the Guilt worse.
Worst thing of it all was, there wasn't anything to do here in El Ray except drink and think. It was exactly how he'd imagined hell to be. Nothing but himself to deal with and the demons of the past. Everything he'd been running from his whole life, and now it was all he had. At least watching out for Ritchie had been some kind of a distraction…
He ordered another tequila. Sitting in this little dump of a bar, where the shots were cheap because they were watered down, he almost felt a bit like he was at home. God knew he spent more time here than anywhere else in El Ray.
It was a good place to spot new prey.
Seth was a bank robber. That was his specialty. He knew all the ins and outs, all the tricks of the trade. But he had liked doing it with Ritchie best. He had liked the flare and the adrenaline. He could go in calm, pass the teller a note, talk to her quietly, whatever. It would accomplish a lot. But it wasn't as fun.
Now, there were no banks. Now, he was forced into petty thievery, into being a stick-up artist. And he had to be very careful about who he picked. Pick the wrong man, the wrong bunch, and you were dead, even if you got away with their loot. El Ray thrived on the protection racket, all the way from Carlos, who ushered you in for a 30 cut, to the smallest lowlifes who shook you down on the street. If you shook down the wrong man, someone under the protection of someone powerful, you were just another body in the gutter by morning.
The rich irony of it was that Seth actually missed the American law. At least they were stable and predictable. Here, it was anarchy. Every man for himself.
He had never felt so much like a cockroach in his life. Unpleasant as the analogy was, however, he had to admit that cockroaches were durable little fuckers, and he was certainly living up to that reputation.
He paid up his bill – tabs did not exist for the wise, only drink what you could pay for was one of his new rules – and headed out. A couple of white guys had just checked into his hotel, and it was time to take a look at their room. They had paid Carlos, but had foolishly refused to share their loot with anyone else.
The streets were deserted – it was getting close to the hottest part of the day, and siesta was settling in. Even El Ray observed the siesta, because if you didn't, it just made you stick out like a sore thumb. It was never good to stick out in El Ray.
Still dark and wiry, his skin an intense olive glow from the sun, Seth did not look like he had when he came here six months ago. He had let his facial hair grow out so that it now covered his face, and his hair, which had once been short and spiky, had grown so that it fell over his ears in thick brown waves. The sun had lightened it, and Seth did not care to spend the money to buy the cheap dye to turn it back – it turned his scalp green, let alone the fact that it was a waste of perfectly good money.
All this change had given him a rather Mexican look. His Spanish was excellent – his accent had improved by leaps and bounds and he spoke almost like a native. To the casual passer-by, it would take a few moments look into his eyes to realize he was white.
The hotel was run down and cheap, and nobody even glanced up when he entered in and did a light sprint up the stairs. He skipped over his landing on the second floor and went for the third – newbies always ended up on the higher floors, it made them easier to corner, and Seth had a scar on the underside of his chin from when he learned that lesson. At the end of the short hallway, he turned left.
And found himself staring down into the barrel of a gun.
The guy was big – not fat or overly muscular, but bulky, like he had an extra layer to his body. Easily he was Seth's height, but he was pale from the little time he'd spent here, and still soft around the edges. He had a good, scary scowl on his face and was putting on a very great effort to seem tough. Seth, who was all sharp edges, immediately knew an amateur when he saw one. This guy was even dressed like a fucking gringo, in a pair of tan pants and a blue shirt that screamed "tourist."
"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" the man growled at him. Not a very deep voice, but a lot of attitude in it. He could go somewhere, if he had the right teacher.
"To my room," Seth said without batting an eye.
"Bullshit. Your room is on second. Way down on the other end of the hall."
Seth felt an eyebrow arch. Bad giveaway, but it was hard not to appreciate the fact that this guy was smart. And he was steady – his hand didn't shake as he gripped his handgun.
"Yeah, but the girl I'm tryin' to hook up with is that way." Seth pointed, keeping his eyes locked with the other's. Blue eyes. This guy was pure gringo. He'd never pass for a native.
The other's forehead furrowed in a frown. It was possible – even likely. Seth was a good liar, although he didn't do it much. Telling people the truth was always a better scare tactic. But with a gun in his face, anything went.
"I don't believe you," the guy said. "You've been eyeballing us ever since we came in."
"Hard not to do," Seth said evenly. "Your partner is a fucking idiot, waving his cash around."
"I'll grant you that," the man said, cocking the gun. "But he's still my partner."
Truth be told, every word that came out of this man's mouth just made Seth respect him more. Still, there was this little thing with the gun…"Look, whatever man. I'm just trying to get laid and you're in my way. So let's quit playing the good, the bad and the stupid and just pass like ships, all right?"
The other hesitated, and then un-cocked the gun. "Next time get the girl to come to your room," he said as he unblocked the hallway. "I don't want to see you up here again."
Guy had huge hairy cajónes to be talking to Seth Gecko like that. But Seth did the quick calculations and figured it would just be better to walk on by. He'd figure out what to do once he got on the other side of the hallway. Main thing was that the gun was out of his face. Seth started walking, but he hadn't gotten two steps past the door of the room where his two targets had been staying when it came flying open and the other guy charged out.
He had a very large knife. A twelve inch caber, from the flash of bright steel Seth saw. But Seth was quicker, and this guy was stupid enough to yell as he charged, like he was making some idiotic battle cry. Seth ducked, the knife went into the wall, and Seth came back up, elbow out and firmly implanted into his attacker's gut.
"Hey!" shouted the smart one, as the stupid one floundered backwards but attempted to recover. Seth was in full kill-or-be-killed mode, and he was pissed that this fucker had tried to take a shot at him from behind, which just made him twice as mean. He sucker-punched him so that the stupid one fell back into the hotel room, and he ducked inside after just in time to dodge a bullet from the smart one's gun.
The stupid one wouldn't quit. He kept shouting at Seth, his arms and legs flaying as he attempted to fight back. Seth would almost have been willing to knock him out and walk away, except that at the very last second, the guy pulled a gun on him. Seth lowered like a charging bull and shoulder-rammed him, causing the gun to fire upwards and then tumble out of his hand as he went through the singular window of the hotel room. Seth caught himself in the broken frame, but the stupid guy was laid out flat in the street like yesterday's slaughter. Before checking to make sure he was dead, Seth bent down and picked up the discarded gun, and found that their was still one pointed in his face.
The smart guy seemed extremely irritated, but whether it was with Seth or with his partner, Seth couldn't tell. He decided to try for the good option. "Look, like I said man, your partner was a fucking idiot."
"Yeah, well, it hardly matters now, doesn't it?" He hovered behind his gun, wondering if Seth was going to come after him next.
Seth recognized it. "Look, I'm sorry about that." He gestured toward the broken window. He had the gun from the ground, but was smart enough not to point it at the other guy. Instead he shoved it into his belt. "You want some help going downstairs, seeing if he's alive?"
A bit taken aback by Seth's sudden attempt at comraderie, the man seemed to finger his gun with hesitation. Then, annoyed that his backhanded attempt at friendship wasn't working as quickly as he liked, Seth lost his patience. "Look, if you're gonna shoot me, then shoot me, but stop pointing that thing at me if you're not. If it was gonna fuck with you, I'd have done it already, wouldn't I?" He gestured to the gun stuffed in his pants.
This seemed to win the other one over. "Alex Tully," he said, a half-hearted introduction.
"Seth—" Seth started to get out.
"I know who you are," Alex said. "I saw the news. Seth and Ritchie Gecko. Where's your brother?"
Seth swore a momentary lump appeared in his throat. He had never had to say these words out loud before. "He's dead."
A flash of sympathy, but it was quickly mottled over with a frown. "Sorry about that." Alex took a few steps forward toward the window and glanced down. "I'm pretty sure he's dead, too."
Seth glanced down too. The body had already been stripped. Someone had it by the ankle and was attempting to drag it down the street.
"Looks like he's an organ donor now," Seth quipped. "Sorry about that, but uh…well, you know."
Alex shrugged, shook his head. "Like you said. He was a fucking idiot."
Seth nodded. Resilience. This Alex just got better and better. "So…"
Alex looked at him. "So."
"Looks like you need a new partner," Seth said.
Alex nodded. "Maybe. You offering?"
Seth felt a qualm of hesitation. He had worked with Ritchie his entire life. Sure, Xanny had tagged along for a good many years, but still…he had never trusted anybody but Ritchie to really watch his back.
"Well, seeing as how I killed your partner," Seth said, "don't you think it'd only be fair if I got his share of your stash?"
Alex's eyebrows shot up, and then he started to laugh. "You were checking us out."
"Yeah, I was," Seth admitted. "You caught me. Which I guess makes you smart enough to work with me."
"So there's no girl at the end of the hallway?" Alex sounded almost disappointed.
"Not that hallway," Seth said. "But if you've got cash, I know a place we can go."
Alex sighed, looked down out the window at the dirt trail left behind by his partner's corpse. "Nah. But thanks for offering."
