Salt (Part 3 of 3)

Becky held the head by hair that was long, black, and curly. The head had belonged to a man with an olive complexion, about thirty years of age. He had a curved nose and bad teeth, and his face was beginning to turn green, yellow, and purple, as he cheeks slowly caved in towards collapse.

“Hey, wake up,” she said.

Slowly, the man’s eyes opened.

“I could really use your help,” she said.

“I’d really like it if you would take me out of the trunk,” the head said. “It’s boiling hot in there.”

“We’ve been over this a hundred times,” Becky said. “I can’t keep you at home. My mother comes over all of the time. If she found you in the fridge, she’d have a heart attack.”

“At least I’d have some female companionship,” the head remarked.

“I don’t need everyone thinking I’m a crazy serial killer,” Becky said.

“No, you just talk to a human head that you keep in your car. One that talks back to you, but that no one else can hear it. Nothing crazy about that at all.”

“You know, for a holy man, you’re awfully sarcastic,” Becky said. “Listen! I’ve got a serious situation here. There’s no time.”

“The alien.”

“Yeah.”

“Actually, it’s a trans-dimensional being. The whole E.T. thing is a cover, because—”

“I don’t care!” Becky said. “How do I stop it?”

“Destroy the collar and let it go home.”

“What?”

“That’s all it wants. Her people feed off of the negativity on television. All of those people in L.A. aren’t dead. The collar has just shifted them into another dimension. The salt is the residue from the transfer. Take it off, the demon goes home, and you get all of your people back. Except the ones that died from fear when they woke up in an alternate reality. Sucks to be them.”

“But what about the first group of aliens—or trans-demons, or whatever?” Becky said.

“Yeah, OK. I’ve got some ideas to help them, too. But I want out of the bag. Put me in your house. And I get to sit on the couch and watch DVDs with you.”

“No,” she said appalled. “You’ll get…dead guy stuff all over the place.”

“Put down some plastic or something!” the head said. “I swear, in 500 years, you’re the worst owner I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, all right,” Becky sighed.

“Get my left hand. Hurry up. That thing is just about to eat Tom.”

Becky did as she was told. She rummaged through the bag until she found one of the man’s severed and mummified hands. It was gray with long yellow nails and its fingers spread out like a star fish.

“Got it,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“Is it the left one?”

She checked it by turning around and matching it to her own hand. “Yes.”

“Okay, when you get inside, this is what you say:

'Blessed flames come
To the sinister hand.
Strike all who bring death,
Bring them down
With dragon’s breath.'

“Can you remember that?”

Becky took a breath to calm herself. “Uh, blessed…flames come…to the…shoot. Can’t you do it?”

“To the sinister hand! Say it!”

“To the sinister hand.”

“Strike all who bring death!”

“Strike all who bring death.”

“Bring them down with dragon’s breath!”

‘’Dragon’s breath. Got it. Then what.”

“Then point it at the thing you want to die. But make sure that you—”

Becky slammed the lid of the trunk, so she didn’t quite hear the rest of what the head said. She raced towards the Royal Fork, praying that she wasn’t too late. She skidded to a stop, flung open the door.

A scene from Hell waited.

If the woman was large before, she was enormous now. She had doubled her width and her torso was now several times longer than before. Bizarrely, her polka-dotted dress seemed to have grown with her. Her legs had become a giant pink tail that curled around the tables. In each of her pudgy arms, she held a partially devoured human being. Her head had grown wider than taller, so it resembled a hammerhead shark, an effect made complete by a row of yellow teeth that looked like handfuls of scissor blades.

Becky’s eyes darted around the diner, taking in turned-over tables, dead customers, and blood, so much blood. Big Mike was sitting on the floor, holding his stomach, a red stain on his apron and a faraway look in his eyes.

Where was Tom?

She searched the human detritus for something that looked like him. God, she hoped he wasn’t one of the bodies that thing was holding. The beast caught sight of her, and with a roar, flung both corpses at her. She screamed and dodged the grisly missiles, recoiling as they struck the wall behind her and splattered her with gore.

Becky’s knees held a quick meeting and decided that they felt safer on the floor. She collapsed in front of the monster. It smiled at her, its teeth pointing at obscene angles.

“Bow to me, human.”

On the floor, her head turned to the side, she could see Tom. He was with the kitchen crew, and they carried an assortment of knives and cleavers. Tom had the fire ax. They were coming up behind the creature. Her heart leaped, and then plummeted.

They were all going to die.

The being saw Becky looking behind her and swung its tail without even turning around. Hector and Ahmed were knocked off their feet. The tail missed Luis, who charged forward with a scream. The polka-dotted monstrosity turned its head and body rolled forward, her bulbous belly steamrolling Luis into the carpet. Tom swung the axe and landed a solid blow, but the freak seemed hardly affected by the gash in its ponderous bulk. It reached towards Tom, and that triggered something in Becky.

She sat up. Raised the hand. Recited the words.

As she did, she realized what she was saying. “Drop your weapons, guys!” she shouted.

Tom looked up and obeyed instantly, the axe plunking on the floor. Hector was out cold, and Ahmed shook his head at Tom’s apparent wish for death.

Then Becky saw that each of the digits on the hand spouted a small flame, like a candle.

Okay, she thought, but how does that—

Five pillars of flame erupted from the fingers of the hand like hydrants spewing fire.

Becky staggered, fighting to control the hand as it kicked and bucked and blasts of flame scorched the ceiling. She lowered the hand, bringing it to bear on the demon.

Tom knocked the knife out of Ahmed's hand.

The flames roared across the diner. The survivors dove out of the way, but were soon enveloped in flames. Yet, the fire seemed not to touch them. It swirled and raged all around them, igniting tables, chairs, plates of food and flatware in a culinary holocaust. The men seemed to not even be affected by the heat.

Becky could not say the same for the monster. At least three of the beams blasted the nightmare. One turned a corpulent arm into melted pink slag, another set the creature’s tail ablaze and the third shot straight into its face, wreathing it in a mane of fire. Hair singed to a crisp, eyes bulged and then exploded and flesh was cooked to the bone. A chorus of high-pitched screams tore from its throat before the flames silenced it, and Becky winced in regret even as she recoiled in horror.

“Sorry!” she called.

The monster toppled forward, smoldering, spewing burning blood from the axe wound Tom had given it. Becky realized that she was still shooting flames from the severed hand; the ceiling was now awash in flames and a good-sized fire was going on the floor as well. She didn’t know if Big Mike was dead, but if he wasn’t, then Phuong was going to kill him when she realized their business was up in smoke.

“What do I do?” she called out to no one in particular.

Tom was up now, helping the others to their feet. They were bruised and in shock, but otherwise alive.

“Let go of it?” he suggested.

Becky did, and the flames immediately vanished.

Tom stepped through the still-smoking battleground and approached her. “Are you alright?” he asked. She turned, nodded and threw herself in his arms. After a few moments, she came to her senses and sheepishly pulled back.

“Thanks for saving us, Becky. I mean, wow. How did you…was that like witchcraft or something?”

“Or something,” Becky said. She was saved from further comment by Phoenix and October, who burst in through the door. Tom rushed to them, tried to block their eyes from the horrors inside and hug them all at the same time. When they had finished their happy, babbling reunion, they turned to Becky, who knelt beside Big Mike. She shook her head, closed his eyes with her thumbs, and kissed each eye. Then she stood, wiping her own eyes with the back of her hand.

“He’s gone,” she said.

“You loved him,” October sympathized.

Becky nodded, sniffing.

“That’s like, the saddest thing ever,” October said. She reached out and took the woman’s hand, who smiled through her bitter tears at the child’s earnest and touching sentiment.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Tom said. “For what it’s worth, I know what it’s like to lose someone you care about. It’s so empty inside. But it gets a little better every day.”

It was several seconds before what Tom was saying registered with her. She looked up with a start. “Your wife is alive.”

“What did you say?”

“Your wife. All of them. The whole city. They’re just hiding. It’s that collar.”

Tom touched the collar, not understanding.

“Take it off. Destroy it.”

“How can you know that? Who are you?”

“I’m just a waitress. But I’ve got a smart friend.”

“Mom’s alive?” Phoenix croaked.

Becky cocked her ear, listening to something that they could not hear.

“I've got an idea about how to help the Capellans,” Becky said.

“I’m listening,” Tom said.

“When everyone comes back, they’re going to hail you as a hero for rescuing them, right? They’ll offer you any kind of reward.”

“I guess.”

“So tell them that you want Hollywood to start making TV shows that will make the Capellans happy. And then you can charge the Capellans for all of this free entertainment they’re getting. They have to have something of value.”

“That’s not bad, Becky, but I don’t think humans will go for it. They like their sex and violence.”

“It’s that or face the Capellans. And this time, they might really kill everyone.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Tom said. “I’m not even sure that they’ll know that it’s me who brought them back.”

“Sure they will. Film yourself taking off the necklace and destroying it. Do it in a place where a bunch of people will re-appear. Then send the video to the networks.”

“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Becky,” Tom said with admiration.

“And one who’s always on my back,” she said without thinking, and Tom gave her an odd look.

“Well, we’ve got to get back to L.A.,” Tom said. “It’s been…amazing. If I tried to film this, no one would believe me.”

“Can’t Becky come with us?” October whined.

“Mommy’s waiting for us, sweetheart. Daddy bringing home a cute waitress would make Mommy very upset.”

“Cute waitress, huh?” Becky managed a grin, despite her pain.

“I’m sorry, that just slipped out.”

“It’s OK, I’ll take what I can get.”

“Come for a visit anytime,” Tom said. “I’ll take you around the studio. It’s the least I could do.”

“Looking forward to it,” she said.

In the distance, sirens.

“Well, I have got a huge mess to clean up,” Becky joked.

“Bye. Thanks again.” Tom said. “Girls, say goodbye to Miss Becky.”

“Sorry about what I said earlier,” Phoenix said, dipping her head in embarrassment.

“It’s already forgotten,” Becky said.

October gave her a sad little wave, and they turned away and walked out of her life. After they had driven away, she went out to her car, opened the trunk, and took the head out of the bag.

“Looks like it went well,” said the head. “You’re still alive, anyway.”

“You never told me that your hand shot fire,” she said.

“Just the one time. You’ve got four other features while you’re my owner. Five fingers, five powers. And, as you’ve already discovered, an endless supply of my sparkling conversation.”

“Yeah, I kind of wish I could disable that feature,” Becky said.

“You seem down about something,” the head observed. “Is it Tom? Do you wish to procreate with him?”

“Wow. You are definitely going back in the bag. And I’m going to take a long, bumpy road to get home.”

“I’m sorry about Big Mike,” the head said.

“Thanks. That’s decent of you.” She sighed. “All right. You can ride up front with me. Have you got any other weird and dangerous things that your body can do?”

The head leered at this.

“Oh, that’s just gross,” she said. She pulled the head out of the trunk and slammed the lid. Opened the driver’s side door and tossed it in. Got in after it.

“Ouch,” the head said.

“You’re such a faker, head. Head. Can’t I call you something else?”

“We’ve been over this. You knowing my name—”

“Gives me power over you forever, right.”

Becky buckled her seat belt and started the car. She didn’t know what she was going to do now. She’d lost her job. She’d lost her reference. Big Mike was dead, and that was a loss that was going to sucker punch her with grief as soon as the shock wore off. Maybe the head could give her the lottery numbers. She pulled out onto the highway underneath the unforgiving sun and began to drive.