"You were right!" she said happily to Trent. "He's fine now."
Trent was relieved.
"I hope he never suffers another episode like that the next time we take him to church," Tina commented. "You neither."
Trent dialed his sister. He wanted to make sure that she was all right.
She answered her direct line.
"Are you okay?" Trent asked.
"I'm fine. Is everything all right with you all?" Solange returned curiously.
"We're good. Just wanted to check on you, that's all."
"What time are you coming into the office?"
"I'm not sure I'm coming in today."
"Are you sure you're okay, Trent?" Solange probed.
He assured her that he was.
After the call, Tina asked him: "Did you tell her anything?"
"Like what?"
"Like what you told me the other day."
"No." He shook his head. "And I don't plan to anytime soon. I just got to know her; I'm not going to scare her away."
Tina understood his point. "Good idea," she said.
11
Expected Guests
"What a nice place you've got here." Deed walked inside the house.
"This is my fiancé—Tina," Trent said as he shut the door behind him. "Tina… Deed Grumbley."
"A pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Deed shook her hand. "Handsome little guy." He referred to Little Foster who was sitting in his bassinet in front of her.
"Thank you," Tina replied softly.
Trent invited him to sit.
"So the baptism went well?"
"As well as expected," Trent sat next to Tina. He told Deed all about it.
"Brave reverend. Not sure I would've responded in that manner. Good thing it wasn't me."
"Can I offer you something to drink?" Tina asked him.
He respectfully declined.
"Your friend has been more on edge lately…" Deed told Trent. He then looked at Tina. "Pardon me, ma'am. I hope your husband explained how truly strange I am, so that nothing I'm about to say would make you wanna hurl me right outta here."
Tina smiled. "He told me."
"Whew!" He wiped the imaginary sweat from his brow. "Don't wanna go tumbling outside of that door."
"Is he here?" Trent asked.
Deed looked directly ahead. "He's right there." Tina and Trent followed his stare, when slowly, Peter's ghastly image came into view.
"My goodness!" Tina's hands met her mouth. "Do you see him, honey?"
Trent nodded. "I do."
"This is your domain. I guess he plays by the rules," Deed said.
Peter was standing quietly—his expression was no different than it was the first time Trent had seen him in the bedroom.
"FYI… he mentioned something to me about a phone call that came through a dead line. I presume he meant in here," Deed said.
Tina and Trent looked at each other.
"Oh my! Yes!" Tina exclaimed. "Remember the first time I saw those strange people outside the house, honey, and I tried calling you, but the line was dead?"
"I said the call came through," Trent returned. "You told me to come back home."
"No, she didn't," Deed interjected.
"What do you mean?" Trent looked at him.
"It was your cross-over buddy. He specifically stated that he was the one on the line."
"It can't be… it was Tina's voice."
Deed's expression shouted from the roof-tops that Trent's chance of getting it would be like a cold day in Hell.
"Look, guy. When a spirit crosses over to the other side, they can sometimes do what they might not have been able to do when they were alive—like make a telephone ring when the line is dead and sound like a living person on the line. It wasn't your wife who told you to come back; it was Peter. He was trying to help."
Tina's face alighted with vindication. She never was able to explain away that episode in any way that made the slightest bit of sense to Trent. This confirmed to her that she had never crossed the thin line over to insanity.
"Thank you, Peter." She smiled at him appreciatively.
Deed sighed. "Now, the reason for my visit… You guys gotta be prepared for tonight. I told you from the get go, Matheson, that these folks will do whatever it takes to accomplish their mission. If they threatened you, you'd be an idiot not to take it seriously." He looked at Tina. "I'm not trying to scare you, ma'am… I'm just laying out the facts."
"I understand," she replied.
"Peter said something on the way over here. When you hear it, you'd probably have an idea where he's coming from."
The room was quiet.
"He said something about the 'slaughter'. He was speaking sort of erratically, but I got that much—probably because he kept repeating it."
Trent's heart sank. He knew it was an indication of how bad it was going to get.
"That's not good at all," Tina commented.
"Far from it." Deed leaned forward slightly. "Are your minds absolutely made up that you're going to keep your baby even if it means that other innocent people would have to suffer? I know it's a sensitive question, but I have to ask it:… Is the child worth all of the chaos?"
"What do you mean if our child is worth it?" Tina was grossly offended.
"I mean no disrespect, ma'am, but sometimes the tough questions need to be asked in order for you to have a clear picture of the extent you are willing to go and the price that must be paid."
"We understand completely, Deed," Trent intervened. "And I reiterate what I told you before. There's no way we're giving up our son. I'm sorry about what the implications of that might be. But how can we, as parents, knowingly hand our child over to this cult or whatever the hell they are? There's no way we're doing it. I'm sorry."
"Got it!" Deed used the support of his thighs to stand up. "Just wanted to make sure we were thinking along the same lines as before because Matheson and Madam…" he glanced at them both, "…it'll do you well to get in a lot of heavy praying and whatever else you can think of doing to protect your loved ones. I doubt you can do anything about the strangers who'll find themselves in the mix of things, but you can at least try your best to protect those around you. They're upping their game—big time. Just saying."
"I know." Trent got up too.
"Ma'am, it was indeed a pleasure meeting you and please forgive me for offending you," Deed said to Tina.
Peter instantly vanished from the room.
"It's okay. I know you're only trying to help us," Tina replied.
Trent walked him to his jeep.
"We have to find a way to stop them," Trent said as Deed hopped inside the vehicle. "There must be a way."
"I'm sure there is, but I'm not privy to that yet. Peter's mum about it. Sure he has his reasons or maybe he just doesn't know. Contrary to what you might think, partner, he doesn't fill me in on all the details. We'll figure something out though—if we're lucky enough to survive the mess."
Trent looked at him seriously.
"Just kidding! You know… it's like I can't help myself sometimes. Don't know when the comical remarks just ain't cutting it. Again… my apologies."
"Don't worry about it," Trent said.
"Move in closer." Deed summoned him with a finger. "I'd say, later tonight when they turn up for their supposed visit, show 'em you mean business—that you ain't backing down. That's a good place to start. I can bet my last nickel if they smell your fear, they'll become more powerful than they already are and you'll sink lower. Look… you and I both know what your powers are—at least I do to some degree. If you have to use those powers of yours to protect your family, don't hesitate, my friend. I know it's only one of you and many of them, but my philosophy is: Go down fighting to the end. This ain't no jokey deal."
"Thanks." Trent tapped the truck as Deed drove off.
* * *
7:05pm…
Pastor Stan climbed into bed as he was always an early sleeper. He pu
lled the covers up to his chest and rested on his left side facing the doorway. Images of the winged creature had consumed his thoughts throughout the day, but right then and there, he was determined to get some sleep—even if it meant he never woke up again.
A couple of minutes in, he started to doze off, but was awakened by the sound of the church bell. That's odd, he thought. That bell hadn't been used for years. He pitched up in bed as the next thing he noticed were four hooded figures like the ones he had seen across the street from church. They were standing around the room and one directly in front of him.
"What do you want with me?" He asked as if he had no idea. His heart suddenly racing. "You foul souls sent from Satan himself cannot destroy me. Fear not them who can kill the body, but rather fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in Hell! I'm not afraid of you!" His voice was trembling with each word.
He watched as the figure standing in front of him opened his mouth that stretched at least eight inches apart exposing long, rusty teeth. What seemed strange to Pastor Stan was that the mouth appeared where there was apparently no face. He immediately bowed his head, closed his eyes and started saying the Lord's Prayer.
The hooded figure flew towards him with ferocious speed and in a split second, the elderly man dropped backwards onto the bed with every ounce of breath knocked right out of him. The merciless intruder had passed through Pastor Stan and out through his back. However, the body was completely intact with no outward signs of disturbance. Pastor Stan was dead.
* * *
Trent and Tina were sitting in their living room with the baby. The couple had decided to wait downstairs for their expected visitors. The entire house was in darkness with the exception of the room in which they sat.
After Little Foster had fallen asleep in her arms, Tina leaned forward and placed him in his bassinet. She then edged closer to Trent and rested her head on his shoulder. He was tense, but quiet.
Gently rubbing Tina's arm, he contemplated all the possibilities that night would hold and feared for her and the baby's safety. What if I fail them? He thought. What if we're attacked and I can't save my family?
He slipped away from Tina, got up and looked outside. Everything was perfectly still as far as he could see, but he knew they would be there.
They heard a loud screech.
"Trent!" Tina whispered loudly.
He quickly turned around. "They're here."
Slightly trembling, Tina immediately went to pick up the child, then—to her horror—noticed that he had levitated out of his bassinet within seconds she had turned to call Trent and was now rising towards the ceiling.
She sprung up to reach him. "Trent!" she cried again. Trent was stunned by the sight of his child in mid-air. The baby was up too far already and Tina could not reach him. However, she was determined to not allow her child to be manipulated in that way again. She quickly pulled over a chair and stood on top of it to grab the child, but missed him in a split second. He was much higher now beyond any of their reach.
"Get him down!" Tina shouted as she watched her child hover inches away from the ceiling as he did in the master bedroom that day.
"Tina…" Trent started.
Suddenly, darkly-clad hooded figures were all around them. They appeared out of nowhere. Their heads were all lowered with hands crossed in front—except for one of them. None had faces that could be seen. The one figure that appeared to be looking at Trent and Tina, looked up towards the baby who was still fast asleep, then back in the couple's direction again.
"You know why we are here." A voice somehow escaped that black hole under the hood.
Trent stood in front of Tina as if to shield her. He was facing the entity. "Did you think by bringing an army, it would get us to give you our son? He is our son and I demand that you bring him down from there right now!"
The one who had spoken slowly twisted his head from side to side. "We made it clear already," he said. "The boy belongs to us and you know it to be true. His allegiance is to us and our cause and not to you."
"Oh yeah? No chance of that happening!" Trent countered. "Now get him down from there and leave us alone!"
"Please!" Tina cried. "Please… just leave us be. We don't know how you can try to snatch a child away from his parents. We love him. He is ours. He was given to us—not to you!" She was in tears and terribly fearful.
The main figure stepped forward. "SURRENDER THE CHILD!" he roared loudly. Then a face came into view through the darkness—that of a skeleton.
"No!" Trent returned. "You can't have him and that's it!" The pupils of his eyes were beaming that green color again. He was standing his ground; unwavering in his stance.
Tina noticed the change and how much angrier he was becoming. She reached over and grabbed his hand. "Don't start anything," she whispered. "We don't want violence. Think of the baby."
"So you continue to challenge us?"
The hooded figures around the room uniformly raised their heads only slightly. Trent and Tina stood as images of the most gruesome sort twirled around the room in full color. People of all ages and ethnicities were dropping like stones, each with a hooded entity standing over them. Slashes were about the bodies and Tina screamed by the sight of the gore that encircled her. Trent held her closely as the baby still hovered above them.
"Stop!" Tina cried. "Just stop this! Please!" The scenes continued and they were forced to watch victim after victim being slaughtered.
The reality that they could save the lives of those innocent people at the expense of losing their only child was gut-wrenching.
A few minutes later, just as quickly as it all started, the images disappeared and Little Foster was gradually lowered into his bassinet.
"You two will have the blood of this city on your hands until you surrender the child to us," the sinister entity claimed.
"We'll have to take that chance!" Trent said as he watched the intruders all vanish into thin air.
Tina immediately picked up the baby who was now wide awake. "I'm so glad you're all right!" She exclaimed, kissing him all over.
Trent slumped onto the couch.
"You did great," Tina said to him.
He didn't feel like much of a hero. "I just wanted to rid this planet of all of them," he replied passionately.
"One day, honey. Perhaps, one day you will."
12
The Bodies
The Next Morning…
Lieutenant Sparkman and Detective Quint found themselves standing in the county morgue surrounded by all nineteen bodies that came in overnight. They came from all over—each one butchered beyond recognition.
"This can't be happening," Sparkman said while viewing the body of a middle-aged woman whose attacker or attackers were clearly merciless.
"They were all murdered the same way." Quint sighed deeply. "Not again… and definitely not of this magnitude." He felt sick to his stomach. "This city hasn't recovered from the senseless onslaught of less than a year ago which I know that guy thinks he's gotten away with."
Sparkman was quiet. Quint couldn't seem to get Matheson off his mind even for a minute.
"I have a gnawing feeling that something's gonna rip his pretty, little world apart when he least expects it and he'll have to answer for what he's done."
"We'll get him sooner or later," Sparkman asserted, "but right now, we have a new problem in front of us."
* * *
Trent and Tina sat speechless and felt overwhelmingly sad as they watched the news that morning. Clips of separate areas where the nineteen bodies were reportedly discovered coated the television screen for at least ten minutes.
Next, a photo of Pastor Stan was shown. He was found dead at his home and was thought to have suffered a 'heart attack' the night before.
Tina started to cry. "They killed him!"
Trent tried to console her, but to no avail.
"Are we gonna burn in Hell for what we've caused?" She looked at him pitifully.
&nbs
p; "We didn't cause anything!" Trent was close to tears himself. "We're only trying to protect our son."
They huddled in each other's arms, feeling the strain of guilt to a degree they never could have imagined.
* * *
Four men dressed in dark coat suits entered First Provincial Bank & Trust later that morning.
"Excuse me, gentlemen…" Clara attempted to stop them as they walked past her.
"U.S. Marshall's Office," one of them indicated, flashing an ID. "We know the way."
As they stepped out onto the third floor, Sonia got up from her desk to meet them. "Can I help you gentlemen?" She asked after not having been prompted by Clara to expect anyone.
"No, thanks," the same man who had spoken to Clara responded.
They walked into Solange's office and one of the men grabbed Solange from her chair, forcing her to stand. He cuffed her hands behind her back.
"Hey, what're you doing?" Sonia shouted.
"What's going on?" Solange asked, her heart pounding inside her chest.
The lead agent approached. "Solange Deneuve… we have a warrant for your arrest. You will face extradition to France to answer charges related to the murder of one Ferdinand Marquis."
Just as she had dreaded, Solange silently witnessed her world crashing down in front of her. She was hauled out of the office as Sonia watched in terror and bewilderment.
"I will call your brother," Sonia said to her as she was led away.
"Okay," Solange answered softly.
Will Salstrom was standing next to a female co-worker, looking on as the scene unfolded before all of them.
"Serves her right," he muttered. "She never deserved that spot in this company after all the hard work I put in to keep this place going. Matheson hired a killer instead of giving me the position he knew I deserved."
"You're right," his co-worker conceded. "By the looks of her, you'd never guess she was a murderer or a fugitive. Wonder who squealed on her?"
"Beats me." Will walked off happily.
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