by Miller, Tim
He removed his hand and stepped away as the entire arena continued holding its breath. Several minutes passed, and the crowd began muttering. I was rather surprised myself. Had the Bishop failed? Emily answered my question by coughing, and then shifting in her casket. She slowly began to sit up. The crowd roared as she sat up, looking around. She appeared disoriented as the Bishop helped her out of her casket. People began shouting “Praise Jesus!” and “Hallelujah!” It was almost too cliché to be real, but there it was.
Emily continued looking around, even tried to fix her hair which was slightly matted in the back. The Bishop held her hand and whispered something into her ear. Some men came on stage with a wheelchair and helped her into it.
‘”Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Miss Emily Carter!” He paused as the crowd cheered. “Now not only is Miss Carter alive again, but there is not one spot of cancer in her body.” This time the crowd erupted in a standing ovation. That went on for several minutes while Emily looked like she was in total shock. Finally some men came and wheeled her off the stage. The whole spectacle was enough for me. I figured I’d leave early and try to beat the traffic.
When I got outside it was already getting dark. I dug out my keys and clicked the unlock button. Just before I reached my Tahoe, I heard someone behind me. I started to spin around, but something hit me on the side of the head. I managed to side step most of the blow, even though it stunned me. It took me a second to see straight, and then I saw the man who had hit me was holding a blackjack. Three more men, all wearing suits, came out from behind vehicles. One of the men grabbed my arm, but I pushed off him. They all rushed me and I felt them punching and grabbing at me. I began to swing and flail but there were too many, and they were all stronger than me. The irony of being involved in a fight in a church parking lot wasn’t lost on me, but I filed that away, to laugh about later.
They were going to take me down, and I knew it. I reached up and placed my hand on one of their faces and started to push him away. Instead, something else happened. My fingers began to burn through his skin and into his skull. He let out a scream as my fingers seared clear into his brain. In an instant, his knowledge and memories poured into me, downloading into my mind. Once the memories stopped, he fell to the ground, lifeless. I kept my hand on him for a few seconds until he jumped up screaming. The holes in his face were still there, which was rather creepy. His screams were loud and shrill, like his hair was on fire. He rolled around on the ground as if he were having a seizure, but seemed to be purposely hitting his head on the ground trying to make whatever was happening go away. Blood covered his face as he beat his head on the pavement, over and over, screaming:
“Make it stop! Make it stop! Get out of my head!”
The other men stopped in their tracks and began backing away from me. Their eyes were glued to the screaming man on the ground. While their attention was diverted, I grabbed two of them by their heads and did the same thing. Within seconds, they too were on the ground screaming alongside their friend. The three men had all just died at my hands, and then had been reanimated into the screaming, tortured souls at my feet. If I wasn’t a sociopath the whole thing probably would have been horrifying to watch.
I looked at the last man, who was standing motionless watching me. He backed away slowly as if I was a cobra ready to strike. I stepped toward him, but he continued moving away from me.
“I’m not going to do this to you,” I said. “Go tell the Bishop, the Hand of God is coming for him.” He just stood there looking at me. “Go! Now!” I yelled, as he turned and ran.
I quickly climbed into my Tahoe and drove away before the entire AT&T Center heard the screaming. I could have just killed them all, but that would have been too messy and no good way to hide the bodies. Dead bodies draw too much attention. Screaming men would draw psychiatrists. Maybe the Bishop will think they were demon-possessed and try to exorcise them. I wasn’t even sure exactly what I had done to them. It was as if they came back from the dead totally crazy, or just as screaming zombies. Whatever it was, they appeared to be self- aware, and in great pain, a pain worse than death.
As I drove, I thought about the Bishop, and I thought about myself. He had just raised someone from the dead, and she seemed to be in perfect health. I could raise people from the dead too, but only after I killed them in the first place, a side effect of stealing all their memories. It was ironic, really. My way was a twisted perversion of what the Bishop could do. I wondered if he got all their memories, too.
My apartment came into sight, and I pulled into the parking lot, feeling hopeful. I had just fought off four of the Bishop’s goons, who’d had me outnumbered and outmatched. I was learning what my abilities were and how to use them. Whatever the Bishop was, I was not going to be powerless before him. My gifts seemed much nastier than the Bishop’s parlor tricks. I smiled. It was going to be a good week after all.
Chapter 26
As I pulled into my parking lot, David Davidson/Ezrael appeared next to me in the Tahoe. He scared the hell out of me that time, but I guess he thought it was urgent.
“You can’t do that Charlie,” he said without looking at me.
“What are you referring to?”
“You know exactly what I’m referring to. Killing people out in the open like that and then leaving behind shrieking zombies? You know the whole ‘thou shall not kill’ thing?” Davidson/Ezrael seemed quite angry.
“Well, gosh, Dave. Your boss kinda wiped lots of people out back in the day didn’t He? Besides, those goons aren’t technically dead.”
“He’s God, He can do that. And they’re not dead, but they sure aren’t alive.”
“Well, I’m the Hand of God, and I was doing His work. I thought it was kind of fun, actually.”
He shook his head as I pulled the keys out of the ignition.“You are certifiably insane, do you know that?” he said.
“So says the man who claims to be an angel, and who told me my ancestor was the Angel of Death.”
“What if you got caught? What would your congregation think? How about your testimony? Think of all the good things you’ve done.” He ignored my previous statement.
“Then I guess you and God better make sure I don’t get caught, huh?” I was doing my best to push his buttons, and he knew it. I’d grown sick of his games and micromanaging, so I wanted to see if an angel could lose his temper.
“I mean it Charlie! This has got to stop!” At that, the Tahoe jerked to a halt in the middle of the road. I felt the seatbelt burning against my neck as my body lurched forward. I was sure I’d look like I had a hickey from the friction. Great-just what I needed to fuel church lady gossip. We looked at each other as I tried to restart the Tahoe. The engine had died, completely stalling out.
“Sorry,” Dave said. “I lost my temper.”
“I didn’t know angels could do that.”
“We can do a lot of things.”
“I see that.”
“And I saw you learned a few things too.”
“I have. You told me to figure it out for myself, and I have.” I couldn’t believe he was second guessing me now, after he was pretty much no help to me in figuring all this out.
“I guess you have. Do you have any idea what you are doing to people when you do that?”
I nodded as we sat there in the Tahoe. .
“I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
“You sentence them to their own personal hell. Their mind is gone, but it’s not. They are still aware of the horrible pain.”
“What better way to punish the wicked?” I asked.
“You’re really taking this Hand of God thing rather far aren’t you? You’re so full of yourself.” He looked away in disgust.
“No, Dave! I’m full of the Holy Spirit! But that’s something you angels would know nothing about, not having souls and all.”
He grabbed my arm and glared at me so hard that for a moment I thought daggers would actually come shooting out. Even
fire shooting out would have been cool. Instead Dave just stared, his irises growing darker and darker until they were black. The whites of his eyes filled in too, turning his entire eyeball black. He no longer looked human.
“Don’t push God’s grace, Charlie. He needs you right now but He will have no qualms with snuffing you out once you have fulfilled your purpose.”
“So much for “God is love,” huh?”
He put his hand on my throat and squeezed tight. Intense heat coursed from his hand into my neck. I tried to talk, but couldn’t. I could barely take a breath. Placing my hands on his wrist, I tried to pull his arm away, but he was too strong. I reached up and placed my hand on his head, but nothing happened. I wasn’t surprised, really. He wasn’t a man like the Bishop’s goons. Out of desperation, I thrust my hand against his chest. To my surprise, my fingers burned their way through his flesh, sliding into his chest cavity. Dave’s eyes grew large as their normal color returned. He jumped back, letting go of my throat.
My hand came free of his chest and the wound closed quickly. He looked down, rubbing his hand along his chest, and then looked back up at me.
“Look,” he said. “We don’t have time for this. The Bishop is getting stronger. His following is getting bigger and he’s gaining more money and power. Very soon he will make his big move. God wants him stopped, now.”
“Well, it’s not that easy. The guy has an army surrounding him 24/7.”
“You’re a resourceful guy Charlie. Figure something out.”
“He could give me some help, you know.”
“He has.” Dave said. “You got me.”
“My, how generous of Him,” I smirked. “And what kind of move is the Bishop planning?”
“I’m not sure. I know he has a national TV appearance sometime this week. I think the Today show.”
“Really? Is he performing with Taylor Swift or Lady Gaga?”
“Stop that. This is big. Once he appears, his following will go national. Maybe even global.”
“But so will his enemies.”
“Whatever. Just stop him.”
“He can raise the dead, you know,” I said.
“And so can you.” I looked away for a second and Davidson was gone. I didn’t quite get the point of the whole conversation. He didn’t like me using my power to zombify people, yet he basically told me to do just that. Unless he only wants me using it on the Bishop and not regular people. Either way, he was right about the Bishop. He may look like he’s helping people on the surface, but I saw him kill. Plus he’s got that goon squad following him around. What preacher does that? Of course, who was I to talk? I needed to get closer to the Bishop and find out exactly what he was. I had a feeling I wouldn’t like it.
Chapter 27
When I reached my apartment, there was an unmarked police car sitting where I usually park. I made the car easily since it was a dark blue Crown Victoria with a big spot light sticking out of the driver’s side. A man in plain clothes was standing in front of my door. He was wearing an oxford shirt and dress pants. There was a badge clipped to his belt and a gun in a holster on the other side. I had no idea what this was about, but I wasn’t in the mood for whatever it was.
“Pastor Charlie Sims?” The man said.
“Yes?”
“I’m Detective Jim Stanton, with SAPD. I have some questions for you regarding Roger Quinn.”
So that’s it. Roger. I knew there was a danger in killing someone I knew, even if I was careful.
“Yes, Roger. It’s got us all worried. He was at church a few Sundays ago. No one has seen him since.”
“Well, that’s just it. Someone has seen him,” Stanton said, studying me.
“Really? Who?” I really wanted to know.
“A witness saw you with him the night he disappeared.”
Oh, no.
“They what?”
“Can you come with me, please?”
“Come with you for what?” I did my best to sound indignant and confused. The confused part wasn’t too tough to pull off.
“Look. You can come with me and answer a few questions, or I can handcuff you and take you with me.”
It was already late. I didn’t want to drag this out any longer than I had to. He had to have something good if he was threatening to handcuff me. Either that, or it was a total bluff. Of course, if he had anything all that good he would have just arrested me on the spot. I didn’t want to make a scene or seem anything other than the upstanding citizen I have always presented myself to be, so I went along with him. We drove to the station in downtown San Antonio where he took me to a small interview room. He left me there to sit for what felt like forever. There was nothing in the room except a small table, two chairs and a camera mounted in the corner. Finally Stanton came in and sat down across from me.
“Okay, Pastor Charlie.” He said, and then paused. In the light, he appeared older than when he was at my apartment. I saw there were flecks of gray in his hair that I didn’t notice before.
“That’s me. So what’s going on?”
“One of Roger’s neighbors saw you and him standing by your Tahoe talking that night. They said they looked away for a minute and when they looked back out the window, you were closing the back of your Tahoe and leaving. You have anything to say to that? You previously told officers that you hadn’t seen him.”
“No sir. I’m not sure what this person is talking about.”
“Where were you that Sunday night? We know you weren’t at church.”
“I was home. I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Really? Your neighbor said your Tahoe wasn’t there most of the night.”
“Well, she would be wrong.”
“Would she now? Did anyone see you at home? Anyone to back up your story?”
“No, since I live alone.”
“So you have no alibi?”
“Well no, I guess not. I don’t usually have the need to verify my whereabouts or prove that I wasn’t somewhere other than where I actually was.” I might be a preacher, but I had a little knowledge of how the justice system worked. They would need more than a shaky witness statement and my lack of an alibi to charge me with anything. This detective was getting on my nerves. I had to resist the urge to dig my hand into his skull to see what might be lurking in that brain of his. Probably not the best move in a police station.
“Okay Charlie, so who might his neighbor have seen?”
“I don’t know, since I wasn’t there.”
“Yeah, you said that. That’s okay. While we’ve been sitting here, my colleagues have gotten a search warrant for your Tahoe.” Stanton smirked as he explained, as if he thought he had me. I guess the witness was enough for a warrant, at least. I knew they wouldn’t find anything, though.
“So anything you’d like to tell me Pastor? Anything we might find?” He asked.
“I told you, I wasn’t there. I was home. Roger was a friend. What do you people think I did?”
“I don’t know pastor. Not very godly of you, if you ask me. I’m Catholic so we have some different rules. You’re what, like a Pentecostal? Don’t you all play with snakes or something?”
Now he was trying to be cute.
“No, detective. No snake handling or poison drinking or any of that nonsense.”
“How about that Bishop guy? The one they talk about on TV? I heard he can raise dead people.”
“Well maybe you should talk to him. Maybe he can conjure Roger for you.”
The sarcastic smile disappeared as he leaned across the table.
“You think you’re pretty smart don’t you? I know you are up to something. You might have your congregation fooled, but I can tell something isn’t right with you.”
“The only thing I’m up to is God’s work, detective.”
He sat down and took a deep breath.
“No you’re not. I’m going to keep an eye on you.”
“You’re welcome to. If I’m not under arrest, I need to get s
ome sleep. It’s getting late.”
“I can have an officer take you home,” he said.
“That’s okay. I’ll take a cab.”
Chapter 28
The cab dropped me off at my apartment around one o’clock in the morning. My Tahoe was still parked where I had left it. I looked through it, trying to see if the cops had messed anything up. There were some fast food wrappers on the ground outside of it, where stuff had spilled out. There was no way they’d found anything useful. I had lined the back of the Tahoe with plastic before I’d placed Roger in. It was just a matter of wrapping it around him and taking him out of the Tahoe, along with any possible evidence. I started to question God’s wisdom in having me take a target so close. But then I remembered God wasn’t behind it at all.
Having the police on my back was only going to complicate matters. I would need to be extra careful, especially with the Bishop and his goons. Between the Bishop, David Davidson, and now the cops, it would be a miracle if I ever killed again for fun. I still couldn’t figure out how my life had gotten so complicated. It was exhausting to think about, and I needed sleep so I headed into my apartment.
I opened the door, stepping inside to find Lee sitting on my couch. Sometimes I could swear it just never stopped.
“Lee, what a nice surprise,” I said, trying to hide my sarcasm. “What brings you here at this hour?” As I got closer, I saw he didn’t look well. He had about three days’ worth of stubble on his face, his hair was a mess and clothing looked like he’d slept in it.
“Something’s happening to me Pastor Charlie. Something terrible. I really need your help.”
I didn’t like the sound of this. I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone sit and listen to one of Lee’s ramblings of a perceived problem. He probably peeked at a Victoria’s Secret ad or something and now he was punishing himself. I wasn’t sure how he got inside my apartment, but at this point didn’t really care.
