by Warren Cain
The sound of glass breaking and metal bending filled the air. Kirk found himself on the sidewalk watching the rest of the wreck happen from a less involved position.
“Ed and Linda Jones and their nine-year-old boy, Jeff. Just back from vacation in Florida. Linda wanted to stop in Oklahoma for the night, but Ed decided to save a little money on hotels and drive on through. A decision he likely will regret when he thinks back on it, lad.”
“That means he’s going to be all right?” asked Kirk as he found a little hope in the horrible scene he had witnessed.
“Ed and Linda will make it after a few days in the hospital,” Joe replied.
“What about the kid?”
Joe said no words, but he could see the answer in his solemn reaction.
“NO! God, no!” Kirk looked into what was left of the red car.
Linda made a small moaning sound as though she was just losing consciousness. Her face had cuts from where she hit the dashboard. Ed was conscious, but his actions showed he was in pain.
“Jeff,” he said, trying to turn, but his body would not allow the movement in his injured condition. “Are you okay, buddy? JEFF?” he begged frantically. No response.
Kirk looked in the back seat. His mind told him he did not want to see it, but he was compelled to look. The small body lay motionless in the floorboard of the car. The pickup had hit the rear door of the car on the same side Jeff had been sitting. His body lay motionless, but to Kirk he did not look injured minus a small cut on his forehead.
“NO!” said Kirk as the senselessness of the situation overwhelmed him.
“WHY DID YOU DO THAT?” Kirk shouted as he walked toward the pickup truck.
Kevin sat in the truck with blood running down his face, murmuring inaudibly. Kirk tried to reach in and grab him and shake some sense into him. His inability to touch him only fueled the anger he was feeling.
“YOU STUPID DRUNK BASTARD! Look what you’ve done. LOOK!”
The words had no effect on him.
“He’s not going to hear you, lad.”
Kirk turned around with tears running down his cheeks.
“This is senseless. Why does this happen?”
This is too much like the night Sarah died. It’s like living my nightmare all over again.
Kirk sat on the curb and began to sob uncontrollably. When he was done, he raised his head to find himself sitting on the floor in a strange apartment face to face with Kevin who was also sobbing uncontrollably. His face was not as clean shaven as it had been at the bar.
I remember looking like that. He’s losing it.
Kirk, seconds ago at the crash site, bitterly despised Kevin for the terrible accident he had caused. Now in his apartment, seeing this man broken down, hurting from the pain he had caused, Kirk saw himself in Kevin, years ago after his accident. Not something he was proud of, but he understood. Kevin’s thoughtless actions had caused more hurt than he could stand.
“Is this what’s going to happen after the wreck?”
“He’s not going to make it, lad. The guilt’s going to be too much for him to handle, and he’s going to take his own life. Remember, ye have the ability to stop it.”
Kirk stood up and looked thoughtfully at the picture above Kevin.
Reminds me of the one grandpa had. Old bird dog with a quail in his mouth and red barn in the background. Hope you can help me with this, Grandpa, thought Kirk.
“I have to do more than just stop the wreck, don’t I?”
“Yes. Even if this wreck is stopped, there will be others. Kevin’s on a path destined for destruction. Just like ye were, lad. Ye have to show him how to get off that path, convince him there’s a better way.”
“This can’t happen,” said Kirk in a determined tone. “I’m gonna do whatever it takes to stop it. I have to.”
Chapter 46
Kirk awoke as the sun was setting. He had slept through most of the day.
Looks like I’ll be traveling to Texas, he thought to himself as he jumped out of bed and put on his clothes.
Kirk decided to make himself, Larry, and Ron something to eat before they headed out.
I wonder if Ron’s going with me or not.
* * *
“Hope you’re making enough for four people. I’m hungry enough for two,” declared Ron as he walked into the kitchen.
“Morning, Ron. Did you sleep okay?”
Ron gave him a strange look. His hair stuck up nearly a half a foot above his head from sleeping on it.
“Nice hair,” commented Kirk with a grin.
“Had a dream,” muttered Ron apprehensively.
“Me too. Said I needed to head to Texas. What about you?” asked Kirk, hoping they would not have to split up yet.
“I’m going to New Jersey. Supposed to ride up there with some guy who’s going to stop by here this evening. Strange thing is the guy I’m going up there to help has the same problem I had.”
“Me too. I think part of the redemption is to keep someone from making the same mistakes we made.”
“Do you think you can stop him?” Ron asked after exchanging stories.
He seems to have the same doubts in his own abilities that I have in mine.
“I have to,” replied Kirk. “There’s too much to lose if I don’t. After receiving my vision, I’m convinced this Order is taken care of by higher powers. We wouldn’t be given something we can’t do.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Chapter 47
Kirk pulled off the main highway onto the blacktop road that ran through the town of Lakebend, Kansas. The church sat in the northwest corner of the intersection of South Street and Highway 36. The church appeared to no longer be in use. The brick building had eight arched windows on the north side. Broken concrete steps led up into the building. Each of the arched windows were matched up with a perfectly square window directly below, near the ground level of the building.
The main entrance at the front of the church was a large double door with small glass panes framed in directly above the door and a larger arched window centered higher above with two smaller arched windows at either side. The brick façade rose up above the tinned roof and stair stepped up to the final height that was pitched directly above the width of the entrance way. Two flights of concrete steps with a flat concrete pad between them led to the entrance.
Just like the lady said it would be.
Kirk had stopped for fuel near the South Dakota–Nebraska state line and was approached by a woman that he estimated to be in her late twenties.
“It’s been a while since you’ve been to confession,” she stated.
Kirk held his head down.
“I know you’ve been avoiding it,” she continued. “Holding in your emotions . . . not wishing to let anyone inside your head . . . but you need this. Before you continue on your mission, this needs to happen. I know a place. It’s on your way to Texas. The church will be unlocked. There will be someone in the confessional when you get there.”
Kirk got out of his car and walked up the first flight of stairs.
You’ve got to do this! As much as you’ve avoided talking about it to friends, priests, and psychologists, the lady was right. You need to get yourself right before you can help others.
Kirk walked up the second flight of stairs and grabbed the door handle, not certain if it would be unlocked. He pulled it open with ease.
“She was right about it being open. Now I just have to see if someone is in the confessional.”
Kirk walked in. The south side of the church had eight arched windows matching the north side. Everything in the church was covered in a thin layer of dust. It was as though everyone left church one day and just never returned.
Strange, thought Kirk.
On the south side of the church, Kirk noticed the c
onfessional. It was like the ones he had seen in movies at the larger churches in big cities. The dark, hand-crafted woodwork was impressive. The confessional rose to within five feet of the twenty-foot-tall ceiling with a dark wooden crucifix centered on the top. It had one large wooden door in the center of what Kirk estimated to be a six-foot-deep by fifteen-foot-wide structure.
Seems like I’m always in the confessional, thought Kirk as he pulled open the door.
Kirk was momentarily blind as he stepped from the window-lit interior of the church into the dark confessional room.
“Close the door!” The voice startled Kirk.
Kirk squinted to see where the voice came from on the right side of the room.
“Are you here for confession?” asked Kirk.
“I’ll hear your sins.”
Kirk turned and closed the door.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out a form of who he assumed to be the priest sitting on the right side of the confessional.
“Sit,” commanded the voice.
Kirk reached out and felt a chair on the left side of the room. He sat down.
“It’s been a while since you’ve had a confession, hasn’t it, Kirk?”
He knows my name! His voice sounds familiar. Where have I heard it before?
“It’s been awhile,” Kirk answered hesitantly, still trying to place the familiar voice.
“Go ahead with your confession.”
“Well, I assume since you know my name you must know at least some of my story. I used to drink a lot. It got to be a real problem. I . . . I . . . well, I ended up drinking and driving and killed my girlfriend. I haven’t forgiven myself yet, and now I’ve been sent on a mission to stop someone from doing the same thing I did and I’m not sure I can.”
Kirk hesitated, waiting for the priest to reply.
“I doubt you can.”
“What…what…?” It was the only thing he could get out of his mouth at the unexpected response.
“I’m here to make sure you don’t,” the man said as candles placed around the room suddenly lit.
“I become stronger and harder to fight as you get older!” expressed the man as Kirk was suddenly able to see his face.
“The dragon!” Kirk exclaimed, suddenly realizing why the voice was familiar. “The…dragon from my dream. You have his voice.”
Kirk jumped up and took a step back, falling into the wall of the confessional.
“Oh, it’s my voice,” said the dark-haired man, smiling. He stood over Kirk. He was tall, and dressed in an expensive, tailored suit. His brown eyes glowed.
“Would you care for a drink?” The man walked over to a table behind where he had been sitting. The gold trimmed table was stocked with liquor.
I must be having another vision, thought Kirk. I really think I’m here, though. I don’t remember going to sleep. I drove straight from Indemnity. I’m here. No vision, no dream.
“Are you…are you Satan?” asked Kirk.
“Yes. Would you like that drink?”
“No. I just need to get out of here.”
“The drink I can give you. Getting out of here is something I won’t allow, at least not until it’s too late to complete your mission.”
“So the lady that told me to come here…”
“She works for my side…the organization that is the opposite of The Order. My team, so to speak,” said Satan as he poured bourbon into a small glass. “It’s our job to make sure you don’t complete the mission. I need for Kevin to kill that boy.” Satan continued, “I need for you to fail. All the hate towards Kevin for his mistake. All the guilt from you and him. My side wins. Tips the balance in my favor. The world is a little more…a little more ME.” Satan grinned.
“How can you even be in here?” challenged Kirk. “This is God’s place.”
“How can I not be here?” countered Satan. “In this confessional? This is where people come to get rid of me. At least get rid of the side effects of me. The guilt, the pain. Boo hoo, I sinned, and now I have to deal with the consequences. Forgive me,” he mocked.
“I don’t always win in this room, but it wouldn’t need to be here if it wasn’t for me. A lot of people leave me here, for a while. They usually find a way back to me.”
Kirk tried to shake his thoughts free of fear. He needed to find a way out.
“You just have to ride out the next few days. Today is Wednesday. If I keep you here until Friday morning, you don’t stand a chance at completing your mission. You might as well enjoy a drink. It will make the time pass quicker.”
Kirk ignored the offer. “I just have to walk out of this room. I will fight to get through you. The last time I fought you I won.”
“No. The time you fought me in a dream, years ago, you won. I won the night you killed Sarah. I’ve been winning every day since then.”
“Until the Order intervened,” Kirk pointed out.
Satan’s eyes flashed with anger. His controlled composure that he held up to this point was gone. “I have you, Kirk. You are not leaving here until I say so. You’re mine.”
I can’t let him win.
“I’m walking out.”
Kirk reached for the door handle. He turned to see what Satan would do.
He smiled. “I won’t stop you. That’s not my job.” He said, taking a drink.
Kirk stepped out the door. In the church semi-circled around the confessional stood five demons. They had a basic human form, but their skin was more like a reptile. Had they been standing fulling erect they would be nearly six feet tall. Their teeth seemed to be outside their head with no lips to cover them. Out of their backs were bat-like wings that spanned nearly ten feet.
“It’s THEIR job to keep you here,” revealed Satan with a smile.
Kirk estimated the distance from where he stood to the door was thirty feet. Forty or more by the time he ran around the pews. One of the demons stood directly in that path.
If their wings work, I doubt I just have to get through one of them. GO NOW!
Kirk ran for the back of the church. He saw the demon that was in his path growl and tense up, readying himself to stop him. The others took to the air. They were on him before he made it to the back of the church. The first one from the air knocked him down, and the rest of them piled on. Their fists hit Kirk hard. He could only hold his arms up and deflect some of the blows.
Fight, Kirk thought. You have to get out of here.
The attack seemed to go on forever. When it finally ended, Kirk lay on the ground.
“Ohhhh.” Kirk slowly moved.
“Don’t move toward the door, and they won’t attack,” Satan informed Kirk.
“It’s a hard lesson I have to teach people who try to leave,” he continued. “A lesson that Cade Remington learned and accepted.”
“Who is Cade Remington?” moaned Kirk as he lay on the ground not moving.
Wow. I’ve never hurt like this. Pretty sure I have a broken rib. I can feel blood dripping down my face.
“Cade Remington, twenty-three years old, Westville, Ohio. The Order tasked him with stopping a young man from drinking and taking his girlfriend on a ride that ended her life. He had a similar sin that he was hoping to be redeemed from. He failed you, Kirk. He failed himself, and he failed The Order. I won.”
“He didn’t fail me. I failed me. That’s not fair to him. If he had saved me, good for him. He can’t be held accountable for what I did. I will get out of here. I will save Kevin.” Kirk knew he didn’t sound as convincing as he hoped.
I’m getting out of here, though I’m not really sure how right now, thought Kirk as he passed out from the pain.
Chapter 48
“Ohhh.” Kirk’s eyes opened to the sunlight coming in one of the smaller windows on the east side of the church. He took a deep breath.
“Maybe my ribs aren’t broken. Hurts bad, though.”
Kirk slowly stood. The demons were all perched on top of pews spread out through the church. Eyes fixed on Kirk, muscles tense, ready for him to move towards the door at the back of the church.
No sign of Satan. I don’t think I’m ready to fight those guys yet, thought Kirk as he looked at the demons. Got to figure out a strategy. I guess if I want to figure this out and get to Kevin in time, I need to go talk to him. Maybe I need to go back to the confessional. It did hurt a little to hear that Cade Remington couldn’t fight through this to save me. Not his fault, but I can’t do that to the Jones family and Kevin or put myself through the failure if I don’t succeed. It’s just more guilt if I don’t.
Kirk walked into the confessional.
“Ready for that drink yet?” asked Satan, lifting his glass to Kirk.
Man, that sounds good. Might make some of this pain go away. Don’t acknowledge the question.
“What’s it take to get out of here?”
“I don’t have a price for that. I’m better paid if you don’t get out of here. Might as well accept the fact that you aren’t going anywhere. It will be a lot easier if you accept it.”
“I’ve learned that the easy road is not always the best.”
Kirk jumped at Satan. His hands wrapped around his neck.
“I WON’T ACCEPT IT!” Kirk exclaimed.
Kirk squeezed his hands together tightly around Satan’s neck.
Kirk seemed to have little effect on him as he squeezed tighter.
“Trying to kill me is the same as trying to escape. They have my back.”
Kirk felt hands grab his body and pull him out of the confessional. He screamed as he was yanked nearly fifteen feet in the air as one of the demons flew him out of the confessional and into the main area of the church.
The demon dropped him into the pews. As he fell, the back of his head hit the pew, knocking him unconscious.
Chapter 49
“Wake up, lad. Wake up.”
