FALLEN | The Devil of Caracas

Prologue

"He called me a 'bitch,'" fumes fourteen-year-old Lexi, shouting over the truck's engine.

"So, you broke his nose?" asks her father, John Beuller. 

"Damn straight, I did," she hollers out the window of the pick-up, with a scowl. "I don't like that word."

"Well, neither do I, but you can't just go around breaking people's noses, just because they said something hurtful to ya."

Her father clambers over bales of hay, tossing flakes off the 1979 flat-bed Chevy pick-up. Lexi sits uncomfortably on the tattered fabric of the driver's seat, while gently applying pressure to the accelerator. The engine rumbles. Black fumes pour out the exhaust. The orange, paint-chipped, truck eases through a sea of hungry cattle as the beasts lazily approach the vehicle for their meal.

Lexi gazes at the evening sun, in the western sky. It creeps toward the distant mountains, seeking refuge from the oncoming night. Thick Texan humidity pours through the open window, accompanied by a gentle breeze and the overpowering stench of cattle. She grimaces and returns her eyes to the cows approaching the truck.

"Lexi, this is the second time you've been suspended this year. Next time, you just might get expelled."

She rolls her eyes. "Who cares?!"

"I care!" her father sternly fires back. "And so does your mother."

Next to John, kneels Stephen, the youngest of his three sons. The seventeen-year-old boy snickers as he cascades hay off the back of the truck, precariously aiming for a cow's face. 

"That's okay, Lexi," says Stephen. "Girls don't need school anyway."

"Oh, blow it out your ass, Stephen!" contends Lexi, angrily.

"Hey!" shouts John. "Watch your mouth, young lady!" He points a gnarly, thick finger at the side mirror of the pick-up, where he meets Lexi's gaze. He's a tall, broad man, aged by years of labor. 

Lexi glares back, into her father's reflection and then cranks the mirror toward herself to avoid his gaze. Her attention quickly transitions to the sparse freckles, dotting her cheeks. Working in the sun always seems to bring them out more prominently. Then a sudden gust of wind blows her thick, brown hair into her face. She promptly brushes it back with her right hand.

John turns to his son and points his accusing finger to him, as well. "And you need to learn some respect. If you really wanna join the Corps, that kinda attitude will just get you in trouble." 

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," Stephan replies sarcastically as he sends more hay sailing through the air. 

"Maybe I'll just join the Marines, too," says Lexi. "Don't need school for that."

"That ain't how it works," replies John. "The military ain't just for people who don't have other prospects, Lexi." He kneels down, drawing a pocket knife from its leather pouch. "I still went to college after I got out of the Army." Extending the blade, he reaches down and slices away at the twine binding a fresh hay bale.

"Any way, just like I've been trying to convince your brother, you should go Army. They're better equipped than the Marines."

"Marines are better trained," interjects Stephen.

"You've been eating their propaganda," John retorts.

Lexi's mind rolls the thought around. What would she even do in the Army, anyway? After another fifteen minutes, she cranks the old truck toward home as her father and brother kick off the final flakes of hay. Passing through the pasture gate, Lexi eases the truck to a stop, near a massive stack of hay bales. She shifts the gear into park and then switches off the engine.

John drops down from the bed and strolls toward his daughter, as she slides out of the pick-up. "Tell your mamma we're heading in for supper."

"Where she at?" asks Lexi, throwing the rusted door shut.

"Pretty sure she's working with her new stud." John lets out a sigh. "That damn horse has been trouble ever since I got him. I could have gotten her anything for her birthday, but I had to go and buy that stupid colt."

Lexi rolls her eyes again, pretending to listen. Her father finds every opportunity he can to complain about that horse - buyer's remorse. Lexi's mother can't get enough of her horses and John knows she'll never turn down another one.

 "Wish she'd just let me sell the dumb animal," says John.

"Well, Mom likes a challenge," says Lexi, as she hands the truck keys to her father. Then, turning away with a grin, she adds, "Why do you think she married you?"

"Oh, ha-ha-ha," John fakes a sarcastic laugh. He stretches out his large hand and gives her a playful shove. "Now, get your butt to the round-pen."

He turns toward the house, as Lexi rounds the stack of hay bales. She chuckles to herself. Her eyes drop to the ground, studying her muddied boots as they trek through the dirt. She then glances up toward the sun, setting low in the sky. 'I'm tired of this place,' she thinks to herself. 'I'm ready for something new.' Letting out a sigh, she glances off to the distance, at the round-pen. Stopping in her tracks, she cocks her head back - it's empty. Neither her mother, nor the new stallion are occupying the small corral. 

"Guess daddy was wrong," she mumbles. Knowing her mother's obsession with the horses, she figures the woman must be tending to them in the barn. She turns on her heels and makes her way to the large structure. 

Then her eyes catch something moving in the distance. She looks to her left, squinting to focus on the object. A white and gray stallion trots in the open. His halter dangles a blue rope with no one there to reel him in. "What the hell?" she whispers. 'There's the stud. But where's mom?' Lexi thinks to herself. 

Her gut suddenly twists. She starts walking toward the barn. Her pace picks up. She begins to jog. The two double doors are wide open. She crosses the threshold. "Mom?!" she shouts.

Lexi's eyes quickly find something on the ground, at the other end of the barn. Her heart drops. Her feet stop. The shape is distinctive - a body.

"Mom!" she screams. Breaking into a sprint, she pumps her legs, flying through the air. Her heels dig into the dirt. She skids to a halt. Dropping to the ground, she grabs her mother's shoulder. She rolls her onto her back. 

Lexi's breaths shorten. Her hands shake. She stumbles backward, crawling away from the pale body. 

Her mother's T-shirt is spotted with dark red stains, at the base of her sternum. Her chest is concaved. Crimson blood flows from her gaping jaw. Her eyes stare lifelessly into the darkness. 

Tears swell in Lexi's eyes. Her shoulders quiver uncontrollably. Her breathing is sharp. She lets out a blood curdling scream. "Mom!"