world filled with Madeline's evil.'
'Heckel, we are going to defeat Madeline before our child is even born. Our baby will come into a new world, a world of good people who trust each other and believe in each other. The way it is supposed to be.'
A sudden blast of cold wind swirled around us. I put my arm around Sela and felt a strength I never knew I had. Any doubts of defeating Madeline or what my part was in this big game plan were suddenly put to rest.
'Yes, we will,' I said firmly. The air returned to a gentle warm breeze.
Chapter 18
'Pardon me, Miss Madeline. You sent for me.'
'Yes, sit over there and wait,' she barked. Sitting in front of her makeup mirror, she stared into it, feeling almost like the wicked witch in 'Sleeping Beauty'.
'Where are they now?' she said at the groveling stump of a man sitting on the couch. She applied eyeliner and noticed that one of her eyebrows had a few gray hairs. With fierceness, she glowered at them. Slowly, the gray changed to dark brown. Her power was growing as well. She could…change things, manipulate things…and best of all, destroy things. Looking into an assortment of eye shadow, she picked a smoky dark gray to brush on above her eyes.
'They are in Flagstaff, Arizona,' the man, or semblance of a man, said as he bowed lowly. 'Our intelligence indicates that-'
'Intelligence is a poor choice of words for the incompetent boobs that surround me,' Madeline said as she slowly painted her lips a deep maroon.
The servant remained hunched over and silent.
'You tell our…intelligence men that if they…oh, never mind. Get out of my sight before I do something I can't control and won't regret.'
The man stood, quickly mumbled some appreciative remark and back stepped with a speed that looked like a fast Michael Jackson moonwalk.
After Madeline finished curling her hair, applying perfume and touching up her nails, she continued to admire herself in the mirror. A soft knock on the door interrupted the one-person admiration society.
'Come in,' she said seductively, knowing full well who it was.
'You called for me, miss?' a handsome young man said. Long, dark-brown hair stretched down his back. He wore a black turtleneck shirt that emphasized the physique of a body builder. Madeline inched her way to him and licked her lips.
'Yes, I did. What is your name?' She said, walking around the man as if she were examining a fine new Porsche or a choice filet mignon. Madeline stroked his soft long mane while inhaling deeply his earthy scent.
'Jackson. Jackson Steele.'
She took his hand and led him to the sofa.
Later that day, Madeline met with several of her generals. They feebly tried to explain the loss at the Albuquerque Central KOA.
A large, burly man in a black leather jacket said, 'We don't know what the hell happened. The minute we entered that campground, it was a shit storm. I mean there were all these booby traps all over the place, and-'
Slamming her fist into the long, conference table brought the piss and moan session to an abrupt stop. The silence in the room sucked the life out of everyone. Tension hung like a raptor ready to strike. Madeline so much enjoyed the use of fear. It was such a controlling force.
'Were there any remaining men left in your…so-called army?' she asked calmly, standing up and walking around the table. The eyes of seven men followed her every step. She could see the sweat forming on the forehead of each man.
'With all due respect, Miss Madeline, those men died for…'
Before he could finish, Madeline seized the back of his hair, jerked his head violently back, and screamed into his face, 'I don't care what you think. I demand respect. I do not tolerate interruptions. Do I make myself clear?' Spittle sprayed from her mouth, hitting his face.
The man's neck was bent so far back that he could hardly breathe. With eyes wide with fear, he grunted a nonsensical syllable and tried to nod his head. When Madeline let his head go, he muttered a string of apologies.
The silence in the room went to a new level. No one looked at the man. The other six men sat frozen with their heads down.
'Now, where was I?' No one dared offer an answer. 'Oh, yes. If there were any men left from the attack at the KOA, I want you to…' Madeline stopped and saw the fear on each man's face.
'Excuse me, Miss Madeline,' someone behind her said in a mousy, skittish voice. Madeline spun around ready to inflict pain on the person. Standing in front of her was a small boy of about ten years old. He flinched when he saw Madeline start to lunge at him. Abruptly, Madeline froze. His innocent, boyish face caused her to quickly recede. 'What is it?'
'There's an elderly gentleman who wishes to speak to you, ma'am. He's waiting out in the-'
Madeline brushed the hair out of the little boy's eyes, knelt down to face him and said, 'You are such a polite and handsome young man. You tell the nice man waiting that I will be done here in a few minutes. And later, you come back to see me and we'll have some ice cream. How does that sound?'
The boy smiled, thanked her and left the room in a hurry.
'Now, where was I…oh, yes…the men left over from the debacle at the KOA. I want you to reward each soldier with a week's furlough.' The men around the table breathed a collective sigh of relief and mumbled to each other. She had their loyalty.
After discussing her next idea to eliminate Heckel Casey and exterminate the resistance he led, she dismissed her so-called 'cabinet.' Minutes later, Harold Barker opened the door to her suite and walked in.
'Mr. Barker, it's a pleasure to see you again. It's been a while,' Madeline said, walking up to him and offering her hand. His grip was firm and his skin was icy cold. There was a scent about him that was nauseating. It had that old-man smell mixed with a rotting-meat odor.
'Miss Madeline, you look stunning,' he said as he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. She wanted to shiver from his touch, but resisted. Her stomach did somersaults and she could feel a gag reflex turning on and off. 'Please, have a seat,' she said leading him to the sofa. Madeline sat across from him and immediately noticed him leering at her, so she slowly crossed her legs, highlighting her expensive black knee-high leather boots. She smiled, thinking that all men, for some strange reason turn to jelly when a woman wears high-heeled, sexy boots. And the fact that the stiletto heels could double as a mean weapon amused her.
Harold cleared his throat, cocked his one eyebrow, and with a pompous tone said, 'Miss Madeline, there is the matter of this Heckel person that is beginning to…shall we say…cause us concern.' Harold got up from the sofa and started pacing around the room.
Madeline frowned.
Harold spun around, shook his cane at her and yelled, 'I'll tell you who this wrinkled old prune is. I'm the person who's responsible for all your power and without me, you'd be the one wrinkling or more like turning to dust by now.'
Suddenly, Madeline felt very strange. Something was making her insides feel as if they were put into a blender and set on puree. She looked down at her hands; the skin looked wrinkled and was mottled with numerous
