Destiny's Wrath (Destiny Series - Book 3)

by Straight, Nancy

  Within ten minutes of their arrival, the children knew they had been transported to another time; they wouldn’t have been surprised to hear this was another universe. In the entire house there only looked to be one television, which was turned off.

  Abigail showed the children to the play room, which was like nothing they had ever seen before. The walls and furniture were colorful; a white board lined one wall with markers of every color in the rainbow. Toys lined another wall in colorful bins: trains, blocks, animals, wooden sticks, and even Hot Wheels cars. A table with four chairs was in the center of the room with markers, colors, glue, scissors, and more paper than either had seen in their school classrooms. A large bookshelf held hundreds of books. Near the bookshelf was a loveseat with big pillows tossed all over it.

  Abigail’s playroom rivaled that of even the most posh daycare facility. Jessie tugged on Abigail’s sweater and apprehensively asked, “Can I draw a picture?”

  Abigail smiled at Jessie, “You don’t need to ask my permission. This is your room to play. The only thing I ask is that if you take something out, you must put it back when you are finished.” Abigail and Miss Bryant stepped out of the play room and back into the foyer. The ladies said their goodbyes, and from that moment on, Abigail wasn’t lonely anymore.

  It took some getting used to. Abigail was very set in her ways: bed time and morning wake up were on a strict schedule, and a hot breakfast waited for the children every morning. School lunches were packed with all the food groups. After school snacks were waiting for them when they arrived home. Dinner was every night at 5 p.m. sharp. In all of Noah’s eight years, he had never had so much structure. These were things from make believe. No one actually lived this way, right?

  Noah and Jessie did. They had been with Miss Abigail for nine years, longer than they had lived with their own mother.

  Things weren’t all roses. Abigail refused to purchase televisions for bedrooms, video games or any other device she didn’t understand. When Noah started middle school, Abigail bought a computer that they were allowed to use for school work, but neither had ever played so much as one computer game on it.

  Noah was now seventeen years old. He was preparing to graduate from high school and had already been accepted to the University of South Carolina in Columbia.

  Jessie was fifteen and dreaded the day that Noah would leave. He had been her rock her whole life. Over the years, many children came to stay in their home with Miss Abbey, sometimes for a week, or a month, or sometimes for a few months. Each time the children went home either to their parents or to some other family member. Jessie and Noah never did. Eventually they called Abigail, “Granny.” Holidays and birthdays were a big occasion because Abigail’s children and grandchildren filled the house. Jessie and Noah were accepted as part of the family; although shy in the early years, they grew to love their new extended family.

  In March of his senior year, Noah began to be headstrong. He had always been independent, but he was nearly an adult. His life was very much on course. He had worked hard and was excited and nervous at the same time about the fall when he would really be on his own in college. Abigail, having raised her own children and watched her grandchildren turn of age, knew this was a time that Noah had to work through. She tried not to mettle or to provide too much advice.

  The two were in mid-conversation when they heard a knock at the door, his friend Jimmy. She finished her thought and told him, “Noah, you’re your own man. I’m proud of you. You are someone who will change the world one day. Keep making good decisions.”

  As Noah looked at the pool of blood on the floor, he wished he could have saved her. He wished her final thoughts had not been filled with the terror he saw frozen in her eyes.

  Chapter 4

  Noah stood dumbstruck - he couldn’t find his voice; he was unable to shout, or to scream or even to talk. His feet stayed planted as if his brain refused to process the event. Abigail was less than twenty feet from him; he heard a final soft gurgle come from behind the sofa.

  Jimmy walked to within a few feet of Noah and waved his hand in front of Noah’s face several times. He asked his question again, “So, can you look at my numbers?” There wasn’t a hint of remorse in his voice; he gave his action no more thought than he would have stepping on a spider. With no response from his friend, he raised his voice, “Noah! You hear me?”

  The sound of his name brought Jimmy’s features into focus. Noah nodded slowly. He wanted to run to Abigail and cradle her the way she had comforted him as a child. He wanted to call 911. He wanted to slit Jimmy’s throat wide open.

  Noah was unable to do any of these things. His mind wouldn’t control his body; it was trying to process what had just happened. Why did Jimmy just stab Abigail? What was he going to do to me? Where’s Jessie? Why did I ever tell him I’d help him? No good answers arrived, and he felt a sharp pain to the back of his head. It didn’t register at first: had he just been stabbed, too? Noah put his hand to the back of his head - no large gash as he had expected.

  Jimmy had put his knife away; the sharp pain was from a playful slap to the back of his head. Noah finally found his voice to whisper, “You just killed Granny.”

  “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. She was goin’ to tell the sheriff. Don’t worry, I can make it look like an accident, so you won’t get in no trouble. I really need you to look at my numbers.” Although he said he was sorry, Jimmy didn’t sound the least bit remorseful.

  Noah heard his own voice methodically answering Jimmy with, “Let me…Let me get my calculator.” Noah realized that Jimmy was seriously going to build a bomb. This wasn’t some stunt or high school prank - he really wanted to kill hundreds of people.

  Noah told himself he would help him with his calculation, then, as soon as Jimmy was gone, he’d call the police. He would tell them everything he knew. Noah walked down the hallway toward his bedroom, Jimmy in lock-step with him. Noah found his calculator on the desk in his room as the front door chimed. The security system on the house, even when unarmed, made a chime sound whenever an external door opened. Someone had just walked through the front door.

  Jimmy looked out into the hallway and saw no one. “What was that?”

  Noah shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t have a clue. “My sister probably just came home.”

  Jimmy smiled, “Jessie is hot. Does she have a boyfriend?” Noah cringed. The thought of Jimmy being interested in Jessie turned his stomach. He wanted to call out to her, but what could he say? “Call the police.” “Run to the neighbors.” “Get in Granny’s car and get out of here.” Any of these messages would save her life and likely be certain death for Noah. Noah didn’t care; Jessie had to be okay. Just as he was ready to shout his warning down the hall, Jimmy called, “Hey, Jessie, we’re back here in Noah’s room. You wanna’ see something cool?”

  Noah’s eyes got wide. He started to shout a warning but saw Jimmy’s hand in his pocket holding the knife. Seconds passed before Jessie came through the hallway to Noah’s room. Jimmy placed his hand on Jessie’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze with a bright smile. Noah saw the exchange and felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach. He looked at Jessie and said, “Mom called me today. She wanted to meet you at the Waffle House,” he looked at the watch on his wrist, “about ten minutes ago.”

  Noah knew this was the most absurd thing he could have said. The two siblings had decided long ago that if their mother ever did get out of prison, neither would talk to her on the phone, by letter, or in person.

  Jessie looked bewildered at her brother as if he had just lost his mind. His comment had taken her so far off guard she barely even noticed Jimmy’s hand on her shoulder. She said, “What?! Why on earth would you tell her I’d meet her at the Waffle House? I hate that bitch!” Jimmy looked cautiously at Noah as if for the first time he was feeling the tension between them.

  “I don’t know, something about an inheritance from Uncle Dan. She wanted to see you. You should go o
ver and see what it was all about.” Jessie was a smart girl; she would know instantly that Noah and she were in trouble. They didn’t have an Uncle Dan. When they were younger “Uncle Dan” was a code between them, for covering for their mom when an adult inquired about their mother’s whereabouts. She was always with Uncle Dan getting groceries, or Uncle Dan was sick, so she was at his house checking on him. Telling an adult that their mother was at the bar getting blitzed was never an option.

  Jimmy slid his hand from her shoulder to the back of her neck, holding her firmly in place. His gaze never left Noah when he asked, “Your mom called you today? When? I’ve been with you all day, bro.”

  “Right before you got here.”

  Jimmy turned his attention to Jessie, “She’s waited ten years to contact you; she can wait a little longer. Noah’s going to do some of my Algebra homework for me. There’s something I want to show you in the other room.”

  Noah lunged at Jimmy, but Jimmy had the reflexes of a cat, and punched him hard in the nose. Blood went everywhere. Jimmy kept his palm on the back of Jessie’s neck; when she let out a scream, Jimmy hardly seemed to notice. He reached in his pocket with his free hand, pulled out a folded-up piece of paper, and tossed it at Noah’s doubled-up body. “Here you go. Check the numbers for me. I want to talk to Jessie - alone.”

  Noah took in a deep breath and with all his force yelled, “Jessie, ruuuun!” She couldn’t run if she wanted to: Jimmy pulled out the knife and held it to her chest. He looked at her with vacant eyes, “Noah’s having a rough time concentratin’. I think we should give him some privacy.” Jimmy’s knife was razor sharp. He eased it onto the button of her blouse and the edge sliced through the thread holding the top button. Jessie whimpered and Jimmy laughed.

  Jessie began to shake uncontrollably. The knife that had just removed her button sliced the fabric of her blouse and pierced her skin. Crimson began oozing onto the fabric. Jimmy looked at Noah, “How much time you need? Jessie and I’ll be righ’ nex’ door. The longer you take, the worse it’ll be . . . for her.” With his last threat, Jimmy backed out of the room dragging Jessie with him.

  Noah unfolded the piece of paper and looked at the scribbles on it. The paper had numbers on it, in what looked like a formula, but the numbers didn’t make any sense. It was a modified formula for a volume multiplied by a coefficient that didn’t seem to come from anywhere.

  Not only did the formula not seem to make any sense, but the values were all skewed. Words were scribbled all over the paper: kill, die, death, mutilation, explosion and boom. Next to each word was a hand drawn violent cartoon. Noah couldn’t hear anything coming from the room next door, and he didn’t want to waste one more second than he needed to. He did as he was asked. He checked the calculation. The math was correct, but he modified the formula, reducing the volume. He scribbled the new calculation down and swung the door open to dash into the other room.

  Noah stepped through the doorway and directly into Jimmy. Jessie was nowhere to be seen. Noah shouted, “Where is she? What’d you do with Jessie?!”

  Jimmy answered almost absently, “She’s fine, Noah. She’s tied up in the other room. And out of respect for you, I didn’t do nothin’ to ‘er.”

  Jimmy offered a smile, but Noah didn’t buy it for a second. He handed Jimmy the paper and said, “I found the problem with your equation. It’s fixed”.

  Jimmy acted as if nothing outrageous had just happened. “You know, math isn’t as exact a science as everyone thinks it is.” Noah eyed him closely but didn’t try to find meaning in any more of his stupid rants.

  Jimmy examined the sheet Noah had just given him and was excited to see Noah really had fixed the formula. Jimmy seemed almost cheerful when he said, “Here’s a good one - three guys go out on the town drinkin’ and decide to crash at a cheap motel to sleep it off so they don’t get a DUI. The manager tells ‘em the room is $30, so they each pitch in $10 bucks. But when they get to the room, it’s all nasty, and they call the front desk to bitch. So the manager tells the motel clerk to go ahead and give the three guys a partial refund and hands the clerk five $1 bills. The clerk knows he can’t divide $5 bucks three ways, so he gives each of ‘em a $1 refund and keeps a two dollar tip for his self. So, each of the guys didn’t pay $10, they only paid $9, right? The clerk kept the other two dollars. $9 times 3 guys = $27. $27 plus the $2 that the clerk kept is $29 not $30.” Jimmy looked at Noah as if he had just shared the most complicated mathematical problem of our time, and Noah only half understood what Jimmy had said.

  Jimmy saw that Noah didn’t follow him, so he repeated, “You know what I’m saying, right? 10x3=30. 30-5=25. If a simple math problem like 9x3=27 and 27+2=29 when it should be 30 – then math flat out don’t work, am I right?”

  Noah didn’t understand what Jimmy was getting at, and he very nearly asked him to repeat the math problem a third time when he felt the blade plunge into his lung and knew he would drown in his own blood. He reached out to Jimmy and asked one thing, “Why?”

  “Don’t take offense, bro – I have a mission and don’t want you gettin’ in the way. Besides if you’re a religious guy, Miss Abbey and Jessie are waitin’ for you in the light.” Noah felt the sting of the blade a second, third, fourth, fifth time. He collapsed to the floor, watching the blood escape from his body.

  Chapter 5

  Jimmy looked at his watch, it was just before 6 p.m. Noah had been one of Jimmy’s closest friends for almost two years, which probably wasn’t saying much. The two rarely spent time together outside of school. Jimmy had heard all about Miss Abbey but hadn’t spent that much time around her. He could tell from the first second that she didn’t like him; he knew it. When Jimmy first met Jessie, Jimmy thought she was cute, but lately he had noticed she had transformed from cute to hot.

  Jimmy looked deep inside his soul and tried to find remorse for what he had done this afternoon. It wasn’t there. He wasn’t mentally ill: he should be remorseful. He had just killed three people who had been kind to him. Noah had treated him well, even offering to help him with his “mission,” without fully understanding what it was. Jimmy hadn’t let anyone in on his plan until today.

  No regret, “I must really be a monster just like Samael says I am,” he thought to himself. Samael – Jimmy thought he had hit the lottery the day when Samael was put into his body. He had ridden to a remote farm house several hours away, on the promise that he could have an ancient demon with indomitable powers stay with him for a time. He could learn from this demon. Samael had been a disappointment, until just recently. The first four months that Jimmy had shared his body with Samael had been nothing but an onslaught of badgering about balance in the universe, about good versus evil, and how the two needed to co-exist. Something finally changed two months ago.

  It had been the middle of the night when Jimmy awoke from a dream. It didn’t seem all that exceptional; Jimmy wouldn’t have given it an errant thought, but the dream did something to Samael. There was almost an audible click in their collective cognizance. The dream was of a young woman. She was hiding in bushes in the rain; she attempted to shoot a teenager. The teenager turned into a bear and then into a bird, escaping into the darkness. When Jimmy asked about the dream, Samael went into a tirade. That night was a turning point. Samael never again spoke to Jimmy about balance; instead, their conversations were centered on dark topics. Jimmy was bombarded with vile images, unable to tell which were planted in his mind for Samael’s enjoyment, and which ones were memories that Samael wanted to share.

  Samael and Jimmy hatched several plans, each more elaborate than the next. Each time the plan was ready, it was Jimmy who couldn’t go through with it. Bombing the school the day that report cards came out was the latest. Jimmy didn’t consider it juvenile; he thought it was brilliant. His mother wouldn’t care that he was failing all subjects if he were one of the few who survived a school blast. The alternative was fresh in his mind: his mother had warned him if he dropped out of school, he
was on his own - she would cut him off. Jimmy reasoned that Noah and Jessie probably would have been killed by the bomb anyway, that this had been a more merciful death.

  Jimmy looked down at his hands, which were stained a bright crimson; he had blood all over his shirt and pants. Jimmy walked to the front door and locked it, then walked to the back door and locked it as well. He went to Noah’s bedroom, found a pair of jeans and a shirt that would fit him, walked to the linen closet for a towel, then took a shower.

  As he stepped into the shower, it struck him that by now regret should have set in, but all he felt was hollow, like he was somehow disconnected from his own actions. He knew what he had done was wrong, but he reasoned that it had to be done, so he didn’t care. As the hot water washed the blood from him, he had an epiphany: maybe instead of trying to make a bomb, it would be easier just to buy one from someone who knew how to make them. But how much would that cost and where would he find the money in two days?

  Jimmy got dressed, sat at the computer, and started doing internet searches. He found several websites that had step-by-step instructions – one even had a phone number to call for help. He began to dial the phone when there was a knock at the door. Jimmy peeked through the curtain and saw his other friend Miles standing there. He couldn’t understand what Miles would be doing here at 7 p.m. – he normally worked on school nights until 8. Jimmy started to get up, but sat back down trying to reason that there was no reason for Miles to suspect anything. He couldn’t possibly know that Jimmy was even in the house. Jimmy could hear Miles trying to turn the door handle. It was uncharacteristic for Miss Abbey’s house to be locked, even at night. He watched with wide eyes as Miles reached under a potted plant on the front porch and pulled out a key to the front door. The security system for the house was never armed and everyone knew where Miss Abbey kept the spare key. She wanted the kids that needed a place to be able to come to hers whenever they needed to.