by William Oday
BETH:> Oh God. On my way.
Mason couldn’t stop Elio’s transfer, but he could damn sure guarantee that the people that loved him would be there when he left.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Divine Mercy Monastery
Marin County, California
FATHER ROBERTS swept the can of gold spray paint evenly across the cross. It stuck to the gray primer just as he’d hoped. He finished the first coat and smiled. It was beautiful.
Another couple of coats and no one would think anything of it.
A shadow appeared in the open doorway of the small outbuilding.
“Did you finish it?” Brother Ryan asked.
“I pray you didn’t barge in to question me on matters that are of no immediate concern to you, Brother Ryan.”
It would not go well for him, if so.
“No, Father.”
Good. He could learn. Brother Ryan’s holy path had begun with an excruciating lesson in divine mercy. Since then, his progress had been commendable.
“Speak then.”
“Father, I’m sorry to intrude, but we have a problem.”
Lee picked up the handkerchief and dabbed at the stinging patchwork of scars that covered half his face. He sighed.
“Yes, Brother Ryan. I assumed there was a problem. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have disturbed me. What is it?”
“We have a runner.”
Lee pushed his chair back and stood. He retrieved the Marlin 336 lever-action rifle leaning in the corner. It was one of the few possessions he still had from his previous life. It had been passed down from his grandfather and worked as smoothly now as the day it left the factory. The polished wood of the worn stock formed to the hollow of his shoulder like they’d been made for each other.
He turned to Brother Ryan. The younger man flinched as his ruined countenance came into view. It was to be expected. Hydrochloric acid painted flesh into a horrific portrait.
Lee didn’t mind the reaction. He’d grown accustomed to it over the years. It was one of the more inconsequential aspects of his suffering.
“What should I do, Father?”
“Get the dogs.”
A short while later, the wild baying of dogs in hot pursuit echoed through the dense forest. Towering redwoods stretched out green canopies high above. The thick layer of foliage hid most of the afternoon sun. Light penetrated here and there painting bright patches that resembled giant puzzle pieces.
Lee breathed heavily as his boots bounded over a forest floor made soft by years of accumulated leaves and decomposing vegetation. His head swam and his chest burned from lack of oxygen. The moist air stung the ruined half of his face like a swarm of angry bees.
Numerous surgeons had attempted to rebuild his sinus passages and, to their credit, they’d partially succeeded. The fact that he didn’t breathe through a tube in his throat was a miracle.
It was God’s will.
But it still made running the devil’s chore.
Brother Ryan ran ahead holding the leash of a German Shepherd. The dog strained forward, half-choking itself trying to go faster. To find its prey. To catch it. To attack it. A few more brothers likewise followed dogs of their own. All heading in the same direction.
The dogs had the scent.
The brown robes of the Brothers fluttered through the forest like birds of prey. The heavy wool fabric lifted, rippled, and fell with every stride. Their bald heads occasionally passed through a patch of light and shone like flashlights in the darker surrounding shade.
Movement ahead caught his attention.
Limbs streaked with dirt appeared behind a fallen log.
Lee settled the Marlin 336 into the hollow of his shoulder and settled his left cheek against the wooden stock. By the grace of God, he was left-handed and left-eye dominant so he could lock in a solid stance with the unscarred side of his face. He aligned the iron sights on the target. It was a hundred and fifty yards, give or take, through a few spots of hanging branches. A tough shot but doable. Hunting two-legged animals was not so different than hunting four-legged ones.
It was easier, in fact. The two-legged ones were slower.
The target darted to the right and disappeared behind a tree. It would reappear. He just had to wait a second.
Right on schedule, the runner came back into view.
Lee curled his finger inside the trigger guard and drew an even breath. He held it and zeroed his sights. His curled finger pulled into the trigger.
A flash of brown robes covered the target.
Lee’s finger jerked to a stop and he narrowly avoided shooting one of the brothers in the back. He ground his teeth together and focused above the sights.
Brother Ryan raced forward with a graceful speed that only the naturally athletic could exhibit.
Lee focused back down on the sights and followed the brown robes with his front sight. He could kill him right now.
He should kill him right now.
Lee’s heart pounded in his chest. The beat thundered in his ears. The need for vengeance twisted his gut. One squeeze of the trigger. It would be an accident, nothing more. The other brothers would accept that.
But God would know.
God would not believe the lie. The darkness in Lee’s heart would shine bright as day.
No.
He couldn’t murder a man in cold blood. He was a righteous man now. Above the petty pleasures and longings of mortal men. God had chosen him at a time when mankind desperately needed divine guidance.
He let the muzzle drop and forced his finger to uncurl.
Brother Ryan had paid for his sins. Lee himself had personally administered God’s judgement.
The runner and Brother Ryan disappeared into a hollow. The baying and barking of the dogs rose to a fevered pitch. They’d cornered their prey.
Lee pulled the sling over his head, careful not to let it scrape over the raw skin on his face, and settled the rifle against his back. He strode forward to catch up with the others who were now converging in the hollow. He crested the ridge and peered down the slope.
A wall of brown robes obscured the runner on the ground beyond. The dogs howled and barked with the rage of unfulfilled instinct.
“Quiet!” Lee yelled. His voice boomed and echoed through the trees. The dogs yelped and whimpered. All but one quieted down in seconds. Brother Ryan’s dog barked and howled. They’d found it a few weeks ago wandering in the woods, half-dead from starvation.
With patient instruction, it would learn.
Lee marched over to the errant German Shepherd and cuffed it across the nose. Anger flashed through its eyes before it remembered to submit.
It was gone in an instant, but Lee had seen it.
The rebellion.
He removed the rifle from his back, gripped the barrel with two hands, and slammed the stock down on the dog’s head. It collapsed to the ground. Blood oozed from the opened cut. It lowered its head and whined.
Satisfied with the reprimand, Lee turned his attention back to the runner that was now cowered in the dirt hiding its face with filthy arms. The ignorant beast lay there with nothing but a coating of filth to hide the sin of its breasts and nakedness.
But, it had no morality in the first place.
People called them deltas. Humans that had been transformed into wretched creatures by the Delta Virus. In the last days before the media went silent, there had been news reports describing the virus. Ones talking about how the virus burned away the prefrontal cortex and turned thinking humans into something more bestial. The effect varied in intensity so that some were merely diminished while others ended up worse than the least intelligent monkey.
That was what the scientists had said before the screens went dark.
That was one story, but Lee knew the deeper story. The divinity undergirding it all.
Mankind had turned away from God and strayed into darkness. The Delta Virus was divine retribution. If man chose to abuse the mind given him by G
od, then he would lose it.
Deltas were the damned.
They were living examples of divine judgement. Cast out of God’s grace. All of them, except for one, deserved no mortal mercy.
And this one was not the one.
“Bind it,” he said. “It will be an example for the others.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Back at the compound, the delta struggled as Brother Ryan tightened a rope around its ankle. He looped the other end around a post and pulled. The thick cord snapped taut yanking the delta’s leg straight. The rope ticked and cracked as tiny fibers snapped under the strain. The delta shrieked and fought to break free from the other Brothers holding it down. Its head wheeled around looking for an escape that would never come.
The damned had only one hope for freedom, and that was God’s mercy.
Lee surveyed the three groups in attendance.
The Brothers had arranged the event and set the table outside the two fenced areas which contained the other two groups.
Inside the fence to the left, deltas stood peeking through. They were always curious at these proceedings. Lee wondered if they were smart enough to connect another’s punishment with the expected result of committing a sin of their own. However, he had no doubt the example loomed large in the minds of those in the second group.
They preferred not to watch, but the Brothers didn’t give them a choice. A small group of men stood behind the fence to the right doing their best to look but not look. They knew what was coming and fully understood it would happen to them if they tried to escape.
Lee returned his attention to the delta tied to the table. Brother Ryan secured the last knot. The table was uniquely built for the purpose. It was a work of art, even if crudely hewn. It lay canted back at thirty degrees with a thick wooden post at each corner.
The delta lay split in an X with its hands and feet secured and stretched tight to the closest corner post. Its pendulous breasts jiggled as it fought to break free. The exposed flesh between its legs disgusted him. Trickles of blood slipped down its wrists and ankles where the rough cord chewed through the softer skin.
It screamed incoherently and struggled against the restrains, but it would not escape.
It had but one purpose left in life.
With solemn grace, Lee shouldered the axe he’d brought along for the occasion. He held the bible in his left hand aloft and approached the table. He caught Brother Ryan’s eye.
“Is the sinner ready to do penance?”
Brother Ryan nodded. “Yes, Father Roberts.” He bowed his head as Lee placed the Holy Book into his open palms.
Sometimes, the Lord’s work required both hands.
Brother Ryan joined the half-circle of Brothers surrounding the backside of the table. The front half was open for the viewing of the two groups behind the fences.
Lee turned to them and signed the cross over his chest. He swallowed to wet his throat so his voice wouldn’t crack.
“Today, we will administer divine mercy to this poor creature. There will be pain because suffering cleanses the soul.”
Lee hefted the axe off his shoulder and gripped the shaft with both hands. He moved it back and forth feeling the weight of the head and the familiar balance.
The deltas inside their fence started chattering loudly. They knew what was coming. Perhaps they did understand the concept. A few of them jumped around swatting at the others.
Time slowed as the moment reached climax.
Lee knew this was an effect of the presence of the Holy Spirit. Everything seemed clearer, more vibrant. As if the usual veil that dulled everyday life lifted. He glimpsed heaven in those moments.
His body moved, guided by a greater power. Reality seemed both distant and also intensely personal at the same time. He positioned himself next to the table and raised the axe above his head.
The delta’s wide eyes stared silently back.
Lee glanced up as a shaft of light broke through the blanket of clouds above. It bathed the creature in warm illumination. The razor edge of the axe’s blade glinted in the light.
He swung the axe in a smooth arc and the blade cleaved through the delta’s left ankle and bit into the wood.
The delta screamed in agony. A release of guilt and sin.
He moved to the other side of the table and lifted the axe once again. Blood ran down the blade and dripped off onto his arms. He swung again and cut through the right ankle. Two trails of blood streamed off the edge of the table and pooled in the dirt below.
“Raise the table,” he said.
The Brothers leapt to obey. They put their shoulders into it and quickly had the heavy wooden table upright and locked.
It had to be quick. Timing was critical.
The delta was alive enduring magnificent redemption.
Lee ran his finger along the side of the axe’s blade gathering up the blood.
Brother Ryan grabbed the delta’s hair and pinned its head against the table.
With the blood on his finger, Lee wiped a cross onto the sinner’s forehead.
“Romans six twenty-three says that the wage of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life.” He made the sign of the cross over the delta. “May God have mercy on your soul.”
The exquisite nature of reality slowed again to a crawl. The seconds in between the seconds showed their secrets. The presence of the Lord permeated every atom.
Lee understood what every prophet throughout history understood.
Their cause was righteous.
Their mission was clear.
He handed the axe to Brother Ryan and accepted the offered cup. He knelt and held the cup below one of the severed ankles, letting the blood gather inside. After it filled an inch, he stood and turned to the Brothers.
This devotion was for them.
Lee held the dripping cup above his head. “Mark sixteen-eighteen says ‘And if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them.’ ”
Lee put the cup to his lips and drank its contents. The tang of metal and salt coated his tongue. He wiped at the excess dribbling down his chin.
The Brothers stared in awe. For any of them, drinking the blood of a delta was a guaranteed death sentence, or worse…
To become a delta themselves.
But Lee’s faith protected him. God had made him invulnerable to the pestilence that lurked in tainted blood. The discovery of the unique power had come quite by accident.
It was the thing that made Cynthia’s ongoing struggle for redemption possible. Lee wouldn’t give up on her. Despite all the pain she’d caused him, he still loved her.
As Adam loved Eve.
“Praise the Lord!” Brother Ryan shouted. The others hooted and hollered in rapturous glee.
Lee raised his hand for silence. Their immediate obedience warmed him. “Brothers, faith in God protects me as it will any who place their life in His hands. Are any of you ready to surrender to His will?”
Several of the Brothers dropped their eyes to the ground. A few more met Lee’s gaze and then looked away. Only Brother Ryan held his gaze.
Was he ready to take the test?
Lee raised the cup in his direction. An offering.
The muscles in Brother Ryan’s cheek quivered. His angelic face all the more beautiful for the ragged scar that marred his right cheek. His eyes glittered and lips trembled. Faith battled with doubt.
Less than a month ago, another Brother had taken the test. His faith had fallen short and damned him to a life worse than death.
No one needed to look to know he stood with the other deltas inside their fence.
“Are you ready to drink, Brother Ryan?”
Brother Ryan’s hand reached for the cup. His fingers held motionless around the glass.
And then the light faded from his eyes. His hand dropped to his side. “No, Father Roberts. Maybe someday with your continued guidance.”
“I will always watch over you, Brother Ryan.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
The Green Zone
San Francisco, California
THERESA saw her dad walking toward them with his hand waving in the air. An urge to slap his face off made her arm twitch. Far behind him, a line of police officers in black riot gear stood shoulder to shoulder blocking the entrance to City Hall. Another several dozen officers stood behind them ready to assist when the unruly crowd dented the line here and there.
It looked like an impossible job.
Maybe fifty cops trying to hold back hundreds of people. Thousands probably. The long ramp of steps up to the building were packed with people. At least as many covered the front grounds extending along the front of the building in each direction.
Their unified voices chanted “Kill the murderer!” over and over like if they said it enough times, they’d reach the threshold where it would magically happen because they wanted it to.
Maybe they weren’t wrong.
Theresa’s mom had gotten the text less than half an hour ago. They were both at Ms. Lopez’s trying to reassure her that Elio was going to be fine.
Maria didn’t like their family in the first place. At least her mom was smart enough not to divulge the detail that Mason was the one that busted Elio.
But, it didn’t matter.
Maria didn’t need confirmation to already blame her dad for everything. Theresa wondered if Elio would ever tell his mom the truth about his father’s death. If he did, it would probably end up with Mason dead or Maria in prison for trying to kill him. Or both.
Theresa understood Maria’s anger. She was furious with her father, too. This was all his fault. He knew Elio had nothing to do with it, but he let him get arrested anyway.
And now Elio was a prisoner being accused of murder.
All because of him.
Mason held his hands out to Maria, like he was going to explain it all away. “Maria, I’m—”
She flew at him in a rage. Her eyes wild and her fists pounding his chest. “You bastard! You killed my husband! Now, you killed my baby boy!” Spit flew from her mouth as she screamed.
