Free Rise of the Beast by Kenneth Zeigler Page A

floors, the 31st and 32nd floor. Those are the two top floors. It’s a bit pricy, but it offers plenty of room for expansion. Mr. Pagoni will pick up the first month of rent until we establish our own bank account. It will also offer you and Duras living quarters that meet the special requirements you described to me. You will have total privacy and total security, the entire 32nd floor. The elevators will not even go to that floor without a special electronic key that only you will have. It has a tremendous view of the city. As I recall, you like that. It won’t take long to get a business license for your organization. Mr. Pagoni has seen to that. But to establish it as a 501 (c)3 charity that will be tax exempt may take six months or more. We should be ready to sign the lease within two weeks once you have an established bank account. Still, you might want to hold off getting the entire two floors of office space until all of the nonprofit paperwork is complete.”
    Lusan shook his head. “The salvation of the world can’t wait, my friend. We must get started now. If this office is acceptable to me, and I suspect that it will be, we must proceed with all due haste.”
    Leland nodded. Lusan had been running his legs off this past week. Still, he could see the need for swift action. The world was in a mess. Leland saw that more clearly than ever. Right now, what the people needed was what Lusan had to offer.

     
    It had been fully three weeks since Julio’s experience in the park. The demon’s control over the youth’s body was now absolute. The old Julio was locked away securely, able to do little more than watch and feel what the demon felt. Still, to the outside world, this was an improvement. The new Julio was the perfect student in his GED class, very different from the old Julio. He had also become the perfect son for Consuela, and she couldn’t be happier. Still, there were some loose ends to tie up. His old brothers from the Latin Kings were bothering him, urging him back into the fold. It was on a Friday night that he stepped into their basement meeting place and announced his intention to quit the Kings.
    “I’m not mad at any of you,” he said, standing before the group. “It is just that I need to live my own life. The deaths of Miguel, Juan, and David made me realize that life is just too short, especially if I continue on here.”
    “You don’t walk out on the Kings,” said Angel, a six-foot-two, 240-pound original gangsta.
    “Unless we beat you out,” said Carlos, their leader and most senior member. “Look, Julio, you’re a smart guy. I like you, always have. I know how bad you feel about Miguel and the others. He was my youngest nephew; how do you think I feel? But being beat out of the gang; well, that might make your life even shorter,
comprendo?”
    “I’m willing to take that risk,” replied Julio, “are you?”
    That comment elicited both laughter and shock from the members present. This kid couldn’t be serious.
    “You sure this is what you want?” asked Carlos. “If it is, I can’t protect you.”
    “Yes, it is,” said Julio, no hesitation in his voice. “Just let me walk. I don’t want to hurt any of you.”
    Carlos looked at Julio incredulously. “Yo—you, afraid to hurt us? It’s you that needs to be afraid.”
    “You don’t even know what kind of powers have my back,” replied Julio. “Those powers are all around me, protecting me—protecting me from you if it comes down to it. Just let me go, Carlos. I promise that I won’t ever do or say anything to diss the Kings.”
    “Then step up, Julio, and accept what’s coming to you,” said Carlos. “Let’s see if those powers protect you.”
    Julio shook his head sadly. “All right.”
    A way was made through the crowded room as Julio moved toward the center. He found himself standing before Angel.
    “There will be no blades,” warned Carlos, gazing about at the crowd and then focusing on Angel.
    Angel