Sacrifice to the Emerald God by Paul Blades

light on the slightly bobbing craft. Margie, whose head was turned the other way, could not see, but heard the sound of boxes being torn open and cast aside. Shortly there was an exclamation of delight from Diego. “Johnny Walker Black!” he shouted. “Four cases!”
          Pepe gave a little whoop and called out, “Cigars! Cubanos!” The men laughed and ceased their search for the time being. They would resume it tomorrow when it was light. But for now, there was something to celebrate with.
          Diego came forwards and sat down on the rail of the boat. Margie watched him as he broke the seal, unscrewed the top to the premium scotch and took a long chug. He smiled and smacked his lips as the smooth, dark amber liquor went down. Pepe came over and, after taking the bottle, leaned his head back and chugged several ounces. When he had swallowed, the men laughed and clapped each other on the shoulders again. Pepe handed her captor a cigar.
          “Let’s see the negra ,” Diego spat out as he twirled the cigar in his hand. Pepe nodded and handed him back the bottle of scotch. He then stepped over to the still crying woman and flipped her to her back. She moaned with pain as she landed on her bound feet and hands. She tried to struggle away, but Pepe gave her two mighty slaps of his hand across her face.
          “Be still, puta !” he ordered her churlishly. The frightened woman, tears streaming down her face complied. The marauder leaned over and, grabbing the torn bodice of her nightgown, ripped it down the middle until it was rent in half. Her smooth, flat belly was exposed, but she kept her knees held tightly together, guarding her precious place from his pirate’s eyes. He punched her viciously in her thigh and ordered her to open her legs. Groaning at the effects of his blow, she reluctantly spread her knees revealing a wiry, thick, black bush at the apex of her bound legs.
          “Ah, what a lovely sight!” Pepe exclaimed. Diego looked over with more than an academic interest. Another cunt to fill. “ Bueno ,” he thought. But under the circumstances he would give Pepe first dibs.
          “Take her below and fuck her, Pepe, you’ve earned it.”
          The slender bandit looked up at his leader with excitement in his eyes. For three days he had watched he naked gringa with undisguised lust. This poor woman was going to receive the consequences of it. Pepe took hold of a thick skein of her long, black hair and dragged the unfortunate, unhappy woman along the deck. She screamed at the pain. Margie watched, horrified at his callousness, as he dragged her down after him while he descended to the living compartment below the forward deck. The girl cried out and sobbed as she bounced on the steps of the ladder as she followed him down. Her cries faded as they disappeared from view.
          An unnatural peace settled over the deck. Diego took another pull of his bottle of scotch and then contemplated the fine, Cuban cigar that Pepe had handed him. He walked into the pilot house and rummaged around inside it for a few minutes and then emerged with a box of matches. He bit into the end of the cigar, spit out a small plug of tobacco and then lit it. The match glowed and the flame rose and fell as the bandit leader puffed on the cigar until it was burning well. His face appeared demonic in the repeatedly waxing and waning, partial light. When he was satisfied that the cigar was properly lit, he resumed his seat on the gunwale and after taking a deep drag, let a large cloud of bluish gray smoke exude into the night air.
          “Ahhhhhh” Diego intoned. Life was good. The fact that he had killed four men in three days didn’t bother him a bit. That was their problem. They shouldn’t have been born weak and stupid. His fortunes kept climbing. Three days ago he was waiting to be hanged and today he was captain of his own vessel carrying a very valuable cargo and headed