The Last Church

by Richard Lee

  “I want to meet your friend,” she said.

  “My friend?”

  Rachael smiled and nodded slowly. “Our friend,” she corrected.

  Peter knew what she meant; she was going all the way. Her entire trust was placed in his hands. He slipped the dagger back into place between the belt and fabric. It felt like the wrong thing to do and it was such a strong feeling that he fingered the hilt a moment longer, running his fingers along the crisscross pattern that had been his prison for many years. Fuck wrongness.

  He smiled.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Let’s go introduce somebody,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on the temple. He ruffled her dark hair.

  Telly saw them walking back and got behind the controls. He fired up the cruiser and waited as they walked across the lawn, arm in arm.

  Reaching the cruiser, he waited for Rachael to climb into the back seat and thumb the door closed before climbing in the front seat himself. Telly stared straight ahead.

  Turning in his seat to face Telly, Peter said, “I apologize.”

  Telly smiled. “Let’s go,” he said with a chipper voice.

  Peter smiled.

  They were close now. A few people swirled around them, chatting amongst themselves. Some were chanting quietly, while others looked confused or stood silently in line.

  Nobody complained at Ami or Dennis when they pushed past. She doubted they were aware of her existence. She was grateful for that.

  Dennis held her hand tightly, a little too tight but not painful for her, nothing this poor lost kid could do would hurt her. She felt bad having to be so frank with him before, but at the time it seemed the right thing to do.

  She realized now that he had become clingy, replacing his parents with her. That was not good, but she would deal with that when the time arose. For now it was great, as he followed her everywhere without complaining.

  The crowd grew thicker and the chanted whispers more intense. She pushed past people she knew from university, including many of the teachers, but none noticed her. They looked right past her.

  Up ahead someone shouted. The chanting increased in volume.

  In front of her a girl screamed. A man to her right spun and punched her in the face. Another grabbed her head and violently twisted it. He dropped the limp body and went back to staring at the church and chanting.

  Ami picked Dennis up. Straining with the effort, she got him into a comfortable position and stepped over the dead girl, being careful not to tread on any fingers.

  Dennis was sobbing quietly. His hot teary breath burned her skin like a hot shower on a cold night. Between sobs, he whispered, “Why is everyone like this?”

  “I’m not sure, honey. Maybe one of the bombs had some kind of chemical that affects people this way.” Ami didn’t believe this excuse herself and was surprised when Dennis didn’t reply. Had he accepted that? To a kid, maybe it is possible. Shit, to a kid, ghosts are real.

  She pushed forward.

  The crowd before her started swaying. It took her a moment to realize that the swaying was too jerky to be a sway. They were dodging something, taking half steps in all directions.

  Moving forward, careful of her steps, she saw a silent fight in progress. Both men held knives; both men had a number of cuts across their faces and bare chests. The younger of the two had a long slash on his left arm, blood dripped off his fingers. His face looked pale, but he was fighting on. Both men were expressionless.

  Behind the feet of the young man, lying at the edge of the crowd and closer to Ami than she liked, was a young woman, her blouse torn open and a knife wound in her chest, a deep long slash running down to her belly button. Part of her left breast was missing.

  “Close your eyes,” she whispered to Dennis and felt him nod against her shoulder.

  Going sideways to avoid the fight, she stepped on something squishy. She froze, knowing exactly what she had done. From the corner of her eye, she saw the younger fighter move towards her.

  Run, her mind screamed. Drop the kid and run.

  Ami stayed put. She stared at the church like everyone else but didn’t chant. Softly she felt a pull to chant. The words would come to her, she knew that. They would just pop into her head.

  Suddenly the young man was sniffing her face. He sniffed the boy.

  Please, Dennis, please don’t move!

  The young man stared in her eyes. She ignored the need to stare back and kept her eyes fixed on the church. She wished she were in the safety of that place now.

  The man licked the side of her face.

  Can he feel my heartbeat racing?

  A knife was raised. The man placed it gently under her left eye, the point pushed against the skin.

  Stare at the church, Ami, she told herself, ignore him. She could feel her body quivering.

  The young man smiled.

  She looked him in the eyes.

  The man jerked, his head flew back. The blade cut her under the eye.

  The guy hit the ground. The older man was on him instantly. Using his knees, he pinned the other man’s arms to the ground. The young man thrashed about, trying to break free. He was unsuccessful. The older man raised a long bladed knife above his head with both hands and drove it down into the young man’s chest. Blood splashed the driveway as he pulled it out and pounded it home again and again.

  Seeing her chance, Ami rushed on, not looking back until she had put as many people as her rubbery legs would take her between the fight and her need to stop and have Dennis walk.

  Dennis mumbled something softly.

  Pulling him away from her shoulder, Ami said, “What was that, honey?”

  It took a moment for her to realize she was looking into the vacant eyes of a chanting child.

  “We’re here,” Peter said the moment the church came into view. He looked at Telly, who nodded. “It sticks out like a sore thumb,” Peter continued. “It’s a nice replica of the original in Opera Sands.”

  “Coincidence,” Rachael said from the backseat. “No one knows what anything in Opera Sands looked like.”

  Quietly, Peter said, “I know.”

  The cruiser flew over a horde slowly advancing on the church. Peter could faintly hear a repetitive and rhythmical singing as they passed. He smiled. It wasn’t singing, it was chanting, and he knew the words perfectly. It was all coming true. Everything he had envisioned when he wrote the book was coming to pass and it was so beautiful he reveled in the wondrous power he controlled by words.

  Telly said, “There’s no place to land.”

  Peter looked down. He saw hundreds of people taking small steps forward. Further along the driveway he saw a woman struggling to carry a small kid trying to kick his way free. A banged up cruiser was parked close to the doors of the church.

  “Park behind the cruiser,” Peter said.

  “That close?” Telly asked. “Won’t they hear us?”

  “Over that racket down there?” Rachael said.

  “Over that wonderful music,” Peter corrected her.

  Telly shrugged his large shoulders. “The element of surprise usually works better.”

  Peter smiled. “I am the surprise,” he said.

  Telly activated the landing program. The lower the cruiser got, the louder the chanting grew. They landed softly on the smooth concrete of the driveway.

  Peter thumbed his door open quickly, as did Telly and Rachael. The chanting wrapped around Peter like a warm blanket. He saw Telly cover his ears with a scrunched up face. Rachael was staring at the woman struggling with the child.

  Standing next to her, Peter asked, “Who’s that?”

  “I don’t know,” Rachael lied.

  “Let’s go, it’s time,” Peter said and walked past her.

  Ami stopped struggling with the child when she saw her best friend climb out of the backseat of the cruiser. Both her hands were busy trying to keep Dennis clasped to her body so she couldn’t wave. Instead she smiled, but Rach
ael did not smile back.

  The man she was with looked familiar also.

  Dennis kicked her in the thigh.

  “OW!”

  She dropped the kid. He landed on his feet and tried to sidestep past her, but Ami was too quick. She grabbed his shoulders and yanked him back. In a crouched position she hugged the boy to her, squeezing their bodies together.

  Looking back at her best friend, she saw the man walk away. Rachael smiled and covered her ears, but quickly removed her hands. Ami understood what she meant. She placed her hands over Dennis’ ears and pushed them hard toward one another so he couldn’t hear the sounds.

  Almost instantly the child stopped fighting her. His eyes looked up at her, calm and collected.

  She got Dennis to cover his own ears, she did it without words and she did it quickly. She removed her hands, grabbed his and replaced her own with his. She mouthed the word, ‘Good.’

  Dennis smiled and looked around.

  Her friend Rachael was walking backwards. She was showing a stop sign with her hands’ adroitness and mouthing the word: no. Ami nodded in understanding and moved Dennis towards the graveyard.

  They reached the graveyard in a short jog and entered the gates. Instantly they were surrounded by silence. All that was happening was viewable, but like a silent movie in color.

  Peter stopped at the back of the banged up cruiser. He looked at Rachael. She was walking backwards and judging by her shoulder movements, as slight as they were, he knew she was signaling the person with the child.

  “Rachael?”

  She spun around as if surprised by the sound of his voice. She was smiling. “I’m coming.”

  “Is she a friend of yours?” Telly asked.

  “Who?”

  “That bitch with the kid.” Telly nodded in the direction of the graveyard at the two jogging figures.

  “I thought I recognized her,” Rachael lied.

  Peter closed his eyes and sighed loudly. He had to take his concentration off her and put it where it was needed. But having already questioned his trust for her, he found himself watching her too closely.

  He stepped up to the back of the cruiser and happened to glance inside. What he saw made him smile and momentarily forget everything around him.

  Lying on the back seat, in full view, was his laptop.

  Anxieties and worries and problems and fears about the coming moment washed away instantly, like a tsunami rushing towards the shore.

  The cruiser was old. It didn’t have a thumb open pad, so Peter lifted the handle. The door wouldn’t budge. Looking in he saw an old pop up lock. Not wanting to waste any time, he stepped back and side kicked the window. His leg flew like lightning and struck with exact precision. The window shattered. His leg snapped back, arms falling automatically into fighting stance.

  He shrugged off the stance, reached through the window and took hold of his old friend. He unlatched the top and threw up the screen. The green power button glowed. It beeped the boot up process and loaded faster than he remembered.

  Using the touch-pad, he located the file and opened it.

  “This must be read inside the church doors,” he said, more to himself than Telly or Rachael.

  Rachael. The woman of his dreams or the distraction of the moment.

  It had to be done.

  Ami watched the man put the laptop on the roof of the cruiser. He motioned to Rachael and they embraced.

  “That’s a lucky girl,” she said to Dennis. “Not long ago she called me about this wonderful guy.” Ami smiled. “I’m happy, she’s happy. Even during this war.”

  Dennis smiled at Ami. “I’m happy also,” he said, ’cause I met you.”

  She ruffled his messy mop of hair. “You’re going to be a lady killer when you get older, young man.”

  From this angle she was looking side-on at her best friend hugging Mr. Wonderful. She watched the man remove something from the back of his pants. From this distance it was hard to see what it was but it looked like a knife with a long blade.

  The man punched it into Rachael and she doubled over, and a silent scream ripped from her lips. She staggered back a few steps and stopped, swaying from foot to foot, spun around, facing Ami, and dropped to the ground. The knife stood dead centre with a circle of blood surrounding it. Rachael twitched and then lay motionless.

  “You bastard!” Ami screamed. “You fucking dirty bastard!”

  Mr. Wonderful stared at her. His smile was magnificent.

  Dennis had watched it all. Suddenly he jumped into Ami’s arms and held her tight. He waited while she cried.

  Through blurry eyes she watched Mr. Wonderful retrieve the laptop computer with one hand and the other he held out to Rachael. The knife wobbled in her body and suddenly it was in the air, flying to his waiting hand.

  “Wait here,” Ami told Dennis.

  “No, don’t leave me, please.”

  “I’ll be back soon.” She stood up. Dennis grabbed her hand. “It’ll be all right,” she said, “just wait here. Okay?”

  Dennis’s eyes spilled large tears. “He’ll kill you. You’ll be D.E.A.D. Do you understand?”

  “Hey,” she said softly, crouching down to be at eye level. “I’m a tough ol’ lady. I got you this far, didn’t I? My friend can help find your uncle. I promised to take you to him and I keep my promises.”

  “Then don’t go.”

  “What if he hurts my friend?”

  “I can stay with you. I promise I’ll be good.”

  Ami smiled and rubbed the tears from his eyes. Leaning forward, she gently kissed his cheek. “Stay here,” she said, “and you’ll be safe. No one can see you here.”

  Dennis wrapped his arms around her neck. “Promise you’ll come back,” he sobbed.

  “I promise, honey. I’ll come back and get you.”

  With that she slowly stood up, gave his hand a squeeze, hurried through the gate of the cemetery, and stopped at the lifeless body of her best friend. Staring at the blood seeping from the large hole, no tears fell. She said, “What am I supposed to do, Rachael? You didn’t tell me what’s going on.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Samantha was still hiding in the shadows of the pews when she heard glass break. The sound snapped her out of the trance of emptiness she had let herself fall into. Father Michael’s voice was soft and urgent as he spoke to the two new people. They were standing at the altar next to the bowl of holy water. She didn’t know who they were and didn’t really care.

  She knew she should have been concerned when they pushed past her to enter the church, but Father Michael seemed to know them and so she had hidden herself away in shadows to wallow in pity.

  Was it possible to fall in love with someone in a matter of days, or had she unconsciously fallen for Steve a long time ago and kept it from herself due to his childish actions?

  It didn’t even matter any longer. Steve is dead, he ain’t coming back.

  Get it together, she told herself, Father Michael is relying on you and he doesn’t know you’re here.

  A scream rang out. It sounded almost at the doors to the church. Samantha jumped to her feet.

  “Why, Peter, why?” A woman’s voice.

  Samantha rushed to the door.

  Much softer now, “I love...you.”

  Listening between the closed doors, she heard a man’s voice say, “No distractions. I love you too.”

  “Samantha, how long have you been here?” Father Michael rushed to her side.

  The doors flew open. Samantha was knocked behind one, but Father Michael was not. Through the wide crack of the hinges, she saw two men enter. One carried a computer. She recognized him from Steve’s house. The other was Telly.

  “Father bless me for I have sinned.”

  Father Michael stepped back. The color left his face. His body shook with fear.

  “You’re not gonna bless me, Father?” The man moved fast. He was standing next to Father Michael and said, “Well?”
>
  Father Michael’s eyes darted between the two men and spotted Samantha as she edged closer to Telly. His eyes went back to the man in front of him. “I’ll not bless the devil.” His voice shook and the words came out fast.

  “Peter, do it,” Telly’s voice also shook but from excitement, not fear.

  “I’m not the devil,” Peter told the priest. “Not yet anyway.” He smiled. “Give me a minute,” he said and slammed the dagger forward.

  Father Michael inhaled loudly and clutched at the dagger, but Peter pulled it out and drove it home again. The third time he slammed it through the neck.

  The priest turned to face the effigy of Christ on the cross. He pulled the dagger from his throat. It dropped to the floor. With a croaky voice full of pain the priest mumbled, “It’s shaking...” And fell to his knees.

  Samantha pulled her eyes away from the pool of blood forming around Father Michael. The young girl at the altar was screaming. The old man was holding her tight and trying to drag her somewhere. Possibly a place to hide.

  Without thinking she rushed towards Peter. Suddenly an arm crossed her vision and she hit the floor. Looking up, she saw Telly grinning at her. He raised his foot and kicked her in the side. She rolled over to protect it and he whacked her in the stomach.

  Ami charged through the doors, screaming. She ran straight into Telly and knocked him forward. He stumbled against Peter, knocking the laptop to the floor...

  ...The girl at the altar broke the old man’s hold...

  Peter screamed...

  The girl moved closer to the fallen Father Michael...

  “You stupid cunt!” Peter yelled. He pushed Telly towards Ami...

  Dennis entered the church. “Ami?” His voice filled with tears...

  The girl reached for the dagger. Her fingers folded around the blade...

  Peter flicked his hand out. The dagger flew to its master...

  The girl screamed in pain. She held her hand in front of her eyes and screamed at her severed fingers...

  Peter stared at her... Their eyes locked... She stopped screaming.

  “You know?” Peter whispered...

  Telly slammed Ami. His fist smashed her nose. The cracking sound of bone echoed through the mayhem. Dennis cried out. She fell against a pew. Dennis ran to her.