Chapter 11
Dar-Raven
Alex was staring at the TV when there was a knock on the door. Alex hesitantly answered, "Who is it?"
"A friend of Casey's. May I come in? I have information you may need, Governor."
Alex hadn't even hired a press secretary yet. He left it all up to Casey and didn't have a clue about what to do next, except wait for Casey to call. Maybe this was what this was about.
Alex opened the door of his Union Station suite and standing in front of him was this seven-foot man with penetrating, black eyes. His eyes seemed to have liquid pupils like black holes, black stars. He took in what was happening to this stranger. At first, the man looked stripped of any hair, hairless. His face looked grossly misshapen as if he was a character from a "Nightmare Comic Book"—a Skeletor likeness. Adding to his spookiness was when he changed to a man wearing a formal tux, looking very Arabic, no Asian, no South American. He was morphing right in front of him, trying to find the right look and seemingly settled on a very professional looking Italian, all in a matter of seconds. This was all too strange.
As Alex was slamming the door, the man put out his foot to block it saying, "Alex, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You and I are business partners. You don’t want to offend your partner, do you?"
Alex held the pressure on the door while waiting for this guy to back away. "He must be trying to work a scam on me, and he can forget it," thought Alex.
"I’ve never seen you before in my life. From what I’ve seen, I don’t think you know who you are, and I certainly don’t know what you are."
Alex was frightened, but he couldn’t help it. This guy was worse than any horror movie he had ever seen. He wondered if someone gave him a hallucinogen.
"That’s it; I’m drugged," he said to himself.
"Alex, I’m coming in, and you're not going to stop me! You can try, but I don’t think the public wants to see their new governor wearing a jaw splint or a body cast at the inauguration." He grabbed the door and pushed Alex back as he shut the door behind him.
"You can’t come barging in on me! I’ll have security up here! I can certainly take care of myself while they’re on the way!"
The man stood staring at him while Alex tried to punch the telephone buttons in a feverish panic. The intruder dramatically put his hands in the air and dark, black feathers came shooting out of his back, draping him in a giant shroud, a crow-man, a crow-beast, thought Alex
instantly. Alex retreated even farther from him. This guy was horrible, an "Outer Limit’s" nightmare.
"Do I have your attention now, Alex?" asked the birdman.
"You have more than that." This was beginning to be a very bad evening in spite of being the new governor. "What do you want? Who? What are you? What kind of sick joke is this?" asked Alex trembling.
"I’m not a joke. I’m Dar-Raven. I’ve come here tonight to finish some unsettled business. It's taken me almost six weeks to get through middle heaven, but I have finally returned. I'm a prince of darkness, an agent of what you call hell. More specifically, I am the commander and the prince of hell for this region. You have made a pact with Casey.”
"Listen, I’m really not a religious man. I don’t know anything about this middle heaven. I’m not for or against you. I’m just a poor slob who’s the new governor. I had some good ideas about using kids in the work place, and it has taken off from there. It never included anyone like you. I’d remember. I don’t want any part of your business.” Alex was trembling even more. He wanted to go to sleep and wake up after this terrible dream was over.
"You’re my partner. When you became Casey’s partner, you became mine. Therefore, you're the governor because of my influence. If it hadn’t been for a very old foe of mine and his legions, I’d have introduced myself to you, personally, long ago. Those kids of yours are my kids. Their flesh and souls belong to me. I want them. I claim them."
Dar-Raven was getting increasingly agitated the more he talked. "As governor, I will allow you to play your part. I will give you whatever you want, and really, have already done so. You’re the governor. I want my pound of flesh; I want the kids."
Dar-Raven started thrashing about the room. His wings were sending a storm of smaller feathers pelting against the walls. Alex saw Dar-Raven getting ready to go postal. He expected to see a jagged-edged knife slashing towards his throat any second. This crazy, mad (captain of darkness) was loony tunes so Alex figured he’d better humor him. He still thought he’d wake up at any moment.
Dar-Raven jumped forward and pinned Alex to the floor. He grabbed Alex’s face and squeezed it so hard it brought tears to Alex’s eyes. "I'm not a figment of your imagination! This is not a dream! You won’t wake up! You aren’t on drugs! This is as real as it gets! I'm one nightmare who will not go away! I can rip your heart out of your chest and hold it in my hands while you watch it beat! Do you have any questions? Do I make myself clear?"
Dar-Raven was smiling in a smirk, giving all indications he was enjoying himself. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "There are way too many angels of light in this town. There have to be a lot of children. Mr. Governor, if you don’t help me find the children, I promise to tear you limb from limb. I also promise that you’ll die slow. I’ll keep you alive for a long time. You’ll wish you were dead."
Alex blacked out. The whole thing was much too much. When he came to, Dar-Raven was still holding his face with both knees placed on Alex’s armpits. His hot breath singed Alex’s face and eyebrows. Dar-Raven’s eyes moved in their liquid, black inkwells, expanding, changing the more excited he became.
Alex said simply to himself, "I really don’t like this guy."
He yielded, "I’ll do whatever you say. I’m not stupid. Whatever you say! I believe you are what you say. I’ve never believed in anything, anyone like you. How would I know? How could I know? What do you want me to do?"
Dar-Raven pulled him closer to his face while staring directly into Alex’s eyes, then let him drop back to the floor, knocking the breath out of him. Dar-Raven stood and pulled his wings into his back. Alex saw what seemed to be fabric recovering Dar-Raven’s body, forming without a wrinkle, and there wasn’t a trace of a feather anywhere on him.
"I want to be the head of a new enforcement division. I want to find the rest of the children. I want you to give me authority to use any department, including State Troopers, local police, and the National Guard to do it. I don’t care how you do it; do it! If you get any resistance from anyone, they will disappear. If anyone tries to stop me, they’re gone," proclaimed Dar-Raven as he stood glaring at Alex waiting for a response.
Alex felt like a pawn in the hands of a great, wicked chess master. How could he find the rest of the children for this mad dog? Why couldn’t Dar-Raven?
"Why can’t you find them if you’re so all-powerful?" He took a chance saying it, but it slipped out.
"The answer is simple. The battle in middle heaven is not over. I got through, but it’s going to take a little more time for more of my legions to get here. We are temporarily out matched by Aaron’s more experienced fighters, but not necessarily by numbers. Since more of Aaron’s legions have joined him, it’s obvious that more children other than your handful are here, and Aaron’s not on vacation or only scouting around. He’s here because of the many, many children, not just a few. Yesterday, there was a rescue of 15 children from an airport motel that Casey owned. That was big give-away. My Dark Father won’t send any additional reinforcements until I have located the rest of the children other than those working for and you and Casey. He can’t waste valuable time or the resources on a fishing expedition."
Dar-Raven seemed calmer since he had Alex’s complete attention. He was looking out the Union Station window absorbed the bustle of the downtown night. "Normally, Aaron’s group keeps the children hidden until they are ready to run to a safe and protected place. I know the kids are in Nashville. What I don’t know is w
here they are at or where they will head and when. I just don’t know; I just don’t know; I just don’t know, except soon, soon, soon. I want you to put out an alert for all enforcement people to be on the watch for a mass exit of kids leaving Nashville.”
“Tell them there has been a mass kidnapping by religious-cult fanatics who are into living sacrifices of children. That ought to get their attention. See if we can’t get some roadblocks on all the main thoroughfares leaving Nashville. Use local civilians too." Dar-Raven was giving instructions in a monotone and seemed tired and worn down. The battle to get to Nashville had over-tasked him, and he subconsciously rubbed a light scar that could still be seen on his neck as he talked.
Alex had a directory of important officials and the right to contact them for official use as needed. He had the directory on his desk and reluctantly started making calls to his top people. He was hoping for some delays, some good excuses why any mobilization couldn’t be done. He didn’t want the kids’ blood on his hands, regardless of what happened to him.
He kept saying to himself, "I’m really a good person. I’m really not a bad person. I’m stupid," he thought, "I should have checked out my partner. I took him at face value. I’m really stupid but not bad."
As Alex made his calls, he found there were obstacles, much to his relief. One obstacle was that it was very late on Saturday night and none of the enforcement departments could mobilize until tomorrow. Most felt that the best bet would be to use local volunteers. Another obstacle was that the rest of the enforcement reserves were obligated to tight schedules. They were completely overworked and underpaid officers, which caused a complete lack of enthusiasm. There were some Christians among the ranks of leading enforcement, and God gave them a spirit of skepticism. They were asking a lot of questions, and Alex’s answers weren’t convincing.
The biggest obstacle was Alex’s inability to give them details of who they were looking for. It all seemed vague and sketchy. The local volunteers responded better, and Alex got several calls back from some hunting lodges in the outlying areas willing to mobilize, but they were 40-to-50 miles out of Nashville with a start time of late Sunday morning at best. Alex enjoyed the delays
and procrastination. If he gave this weirdo, black bird free reign, he was probably agreeing to murder or worse. He allowed things to slow down naturally and openly agreed to the delays. He was paying the rooster back a little.
Children of the Sanctuary Page 13
