can a frustrated single mom and failed big city journalist save her family and salvage her career by returning to a town run by a gang of bungling thugs?


“The Resurrection of Puerto Cielo” is a novella published in serial form, 43 posts.




32


“Sheriff,” the radio crackled, “you there?”

Eddie picked up the mike, “I’m here, Gloria.”

“I’m getting calls about some big, bad ass guy nailing dead chickens up on buildings.”

Eddie sighed. The sinking feeling from seeing that black truck was coming to pass.

“Okay, I’ll check it out.”

The patrol car turned and headed downtown.

***

The alarmed calls were flooding in. A towering titan with a bullwhip and snarling dog was terrorizing Puerto Cielo.

Stalking the streets, he was ripping down “Carmen for Mayor” posters, crunching them up, and tossing them away.

Then, the ogre went a step further, nailing the carcasses of bloody, headless chickens over the posters.

His intimidating hulk would appear in a shop doorway, scan the store, grunt and stomp off, never uttering a single word.

He was a man on a mission and his mission was fear.

***

Motorbike jolting through Main Street’s potholes, Patrolman Castillo saw a vehicle parked in the “Tow Away” zone in front of City Hall.

Dismounting his bike, Castillo noticed that the protestors were gone. Good riddance, he thought, pulling out his ticket book. He wrote out the citation and reached up to put it under the windshield wiper. Then he realized that the window was beyond his reach, forcing him to clamber up onto the door step.

He heard a grunt behind him.

Turning, Castillo found a giant with a viper mustache glaring at him. The policeman lowered himself to the ground and, helmet visor up, stretched out a hand with the parking ticket. The menacing man, wearing a sleeveless black leather vest that exposed tattooed arms the size of power poles, made no move to take the timid offering.

The pint size policeman had not noticed the nearby dog and was not aware of its troubled past. Mikey, as the animal was fondly called in private moments, had been part of a litter born in a junkyard and left to roam the streets. Caught by a brutal dog catcher, he’d been beaten mercilessly. The emotionally savaged pup had been rescued by a shy giant who’d taken him home and nursed the dog back to health.

Now, two things shaped Mikey’s behavior.

Devotion to his master and a raging hatred of men in uniform.

Which is why, seeing Castillo’s neatly starched and pressed policeman’s outfit, Mikey launched himself at the cop.

The canine missile blasted Castillo off his feet and locked its teeth into a leather boot.

There was a sharp whistle.

The attack dog released its prey. Snarling, teeth bared, Mikey glowered at the fallen cop.

Lying on his back, Castillo rolled to one side and struggled to his feet. His eyes dropped to the dark stain on his trousers.

He’d wet himself

A trembling hand released the citation and it floated off in the wind.

Although the Bernie brothers had no comment on this spectacle, Lazy, always eager to make new friends, sauntered over to meet the new guy in town.

Having learned from his master that it’s best to make clear who’s the top dog, Mikey, wild eyed, with a mouthful of gleaming white teeth, lunged at Lazy.

Freaked by this unexpected response to his neighborly gesture, Lazy flipped into survival mode, did a midair 180 and dove for the safety of the Three B’s porch.

Cowering under the brothers’ bench, Lazy peeked between legs and boots to ensure he was not being pursued.

In the middle of the street, Mikey, who’d used this scare tactic before, barked savagely, knowing that this demented behavior preserved his king of the hill status.

Objecting to the mistreatment of the town’s favorite pet, Paco raised his bottle and voice in protest.

CRACK!

A sonic boom rattled the air and the top of Paco’s beer bottle disappeared.

Across Main Street, the ogre with the monster truck and junkyard dog slowly coiled his bullwhip, flicking off the broken glass from the ball of horsehair at its end. The pair boarded the truck as Castillo regained his feet and stared down at his soiled uniform.

Parked up the street, Eddie watched the big rig disappear.

“Sheriff, you there?”

Eddie did not answer Gloria’s call.

Already, hushed voices were spreading terrifying tales  of “El Hombre” throughout Puerto Cielo.

***