Saint Death

Saint Death by Devan Sagliani Page B

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Authors: Devan Sagliani
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caused the bottom of the wood to rot out in crumbling pieces. She'd dug into the damp, cool soil with her fingers, ignoring the blinding pain in her hands as she tunneled into the ground like an animal. Every few hours another “customer” would arrive and select a fresh victim. Alexis was grateful for once to be overlooked, even if a wave of guilt and shame crashed over her each time they dragged another one off kicking and screaming. She'd worked all night, goaded on by the sound of blood curdling screams outside as much as the pitiful whimpering of the others locked in the adjoining cell, the blubbering and pleading somehow amplified by the complete darkness of her surroundings.
    “Please,” the voices cried out. “Please just let me go home! I just want to go home!”
    Don't stop digging, the voice had told her then. This is your one shot!
    She thought of Corina for some reason as she pushed herself to dig faster. She'd just managed to make enough space to wriggle painfully under and escape by the time the first rays of light were beginning to fill the sky. Getting to her feet she heard a wail of agony coming from where she'd arrived as the girl next to Francois – Karen he'd called her – was butchered alive in front of the grim skeletal statue. Her killer took a steaming pile of entrails from the fresh gash he'd made in her stomach and held the slick guts over his head in triumph while the crowd roared in appreciation.
    Don't pass out , the voice warned her. Block it out or you're a goner.
    The morning air smelled acrid, like burned meat mingled with marijuana smoke. Alexis knew she had no time left to waste with fear or panic. It was just a matter of minutes before they came looking for her, the only one left to sell for slaughter.
    Who would have thought you'd ever be glad to be picked last? She chuckled to herself, feeling madness descend over her like a warm, invisible cloud as she turned and ran.
    She lit out for the water, crouching down low in the early morning cold just in case. When she reached the beach she turned left and headed south back towards Cabo San Lucas. She'd sprinted as long as she could, the crunch of the cold sand feeling good on her sore insteps. The muscles in her legs screamed as if she'd just run a marathon. She'd pushed herself harder than she'd ever dreamed but fear and adrenaline had kept her on her feet, moving forward in the direction of the hotel, back towards the safety of the real world. There were a series of crisscrossed tears in the normally smooth skin of her long legs from where she'd run through patches of untamed land, unconcerned about the ripping away of several layers of skin that now shrilly stung. She'd come across a small dirt road that she assumed led back to the highway just as the sun burst up over the horizon, the tall cacti casting long shadows that looked like sinister pitchforks in the dry dirt.
    You're almost there, the voice crooned. Soon this will all be a terrible memory. You'll go on talk shows and tell your story, maybe even sign a book deal. You'll be a celebrity, a hero just because you survived.
    The sound of an engine's roar brought her out of her stupor. They were coming for her. Her time was officially up. They'd discovered her absence and sent people to retrieve her. She turned around and saw the old black Nissan barreling down on her, a terrible but familiar face floating behind the wheel like a cartoon devil. She fell to her knees and raised her hands to her face as the vehicle came to a sliding halt inches from her head. She could feel the heat coming off the grill. A fresh wave of dread crashed over her.
    Looks like it's too late now sweetheart , the voice said. You had your chance and you blew it. Nice try but no cigar. See you on the other side kid.
    The car door opened and Angel got out, smiling with relief at the sight of her.
    “ Buenos Dias Flaquita ,” he crowed. “We were starting to miss you.”
    Alexis devolved into a hysterical

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