The Holy Death

Chapter 25

Jeremiah and Scott stepped away from Jack's crypt to discuss his rather disturbing offer, hoping he would not have regained enough of his hearing ability to overhear them.

"This is a bad idea," Jeremiah said.

"Gee, you think so?"

"It is bad enough we have broken into the House, bad enough that we have opened Jack's crypt, all against Father's ruling."

"When were you one to care about Father's rulings?"

"I do not care, for my own part. I am looking out for you, Scott. You have incurred Father's anger more than enough."

"Look. I don't like this any more than you do. In fact, I like it a lot less. But can you come up with another way to find this Santa Muerte character and free my brother?"

Jeremiah sighed. "No. No, I cannot."

"Looks like we're stuck, damn it."

"Jack cannot be trusted."

"No shit. I sure as hell don't trust him, but I'm desperate here, Jeremiah."

"Got any more blood?" Jack interrupted.

"No!" Jeremiah and Scott snarled.

"Anyway," Scott continued, "I don't think we have much of a choice here."

"You are right. Very well. It is good that we brought the shock collars. We will need them."

"You're right about that," Scott then turned back to Jack. "Okay, Jack, here's how it is: I don't trust you, I don't like you, and I don't want to free you, but we'll allow you to come with us -- on conditions."

"What conditions?" Jack asked.

Scott stepped around the crypt and leaned over. "Give me your hand, Jack."

Jack thought Scott meant that he wished to shake his hand, as though this were a gentleman's agreement. Were Jack a gentleman, that might have held some validity; but he wasn't, and Scott didn't trust the son of a bitch. He reached for Scott's hand, only to have Scott grab him by the wrist, yank a shock collar out of his bag, then put it around Jack's wrist, like a wristwatch.

"The hell is this?" Jack asked. "A Fitbit? Are you concerned that I'm not getting enough aerobic exercise?"

"That is a shock collar, one that is designed to go around your wrist. It's discreet, but effective." Scott held the remote in front of him. "You do anything I don't like, and I only need to hit these buttons, and you light up like a Christmas tree. Like this!"

Scott hit the red button. Instantly thousands of volts struck Jack and he began shaking like a newly caught fish. Scott released the button, relieving Jack's discomfort.

"Son of a bitch!" Jack spat. "I didn't need the demo, son!"

"I am not your son!" Scott cried as he hit the button one more time.

"Okay! Okay! Sorry! I apologize, I won't call you 'son' anymore."

"That's better!" And Scott hit the button one more time.

"Ouch! The hell was that one for?"

"That was just because I don't like you. Oh, and one more thing: these collars have a failsafe, meaning that if you try to remove them, you get shocked. So don't try to remove them."