The Heretic: Templar Chronicles Book 1

by Joseph Nassise

  But rather than getting him to acquiesce, the reminder that the thing in the next room had once been one of their own only inflamed the young Templar further. “Treat him with respect? You’ve got to be kidding me! The only way to do that is to put a bullet through his skull and let him rest. This,” - he indicated the revenant seated in the next room - “this is simply obscene.”

  It had been a long, difficult day, and Cade had had enough. He stepped close, crowding the other man with his bulk, and this time his voice had a steel edge to its tone. “Your opinion has been noted. Now shut up. My duty is to find the threat to our Order and put a stop to it. I intend to do that. Right now, that man in there is our best hope of doing so, and I’m going to use him as much as I have to in order to accomplish that goal. If you don’t like it, you can remove yourself from the room. Is that clear?”

  They stared each other down for several tense seconds before the younger man looked away, nodded, and stepped aside.

  Cade crossed the room and looked through the one-way mirror into the interrogation room, where their guest was shackled to the wall. The chains were long enough to let him sit on the floor with his head between his knees, so Cade was unable to see his face.

  But he didn’t need to.

  “You recognize him, don’t you?” Cade asked, looking back over his shoulder at his second-in-command.

  Riley grimaced but nodded his head. “George Winston. Bravo Team, wasn’t he?”

  “That’s right. Assault squad, if I remember correctly.” Cade turned to Olsen. “What’s happened since they brought him in?”

  “He fought against the restraints at first, pulling on the chains as if he might get them to pop free through brute force alone. Ended up slamming himself against the wall a couple of times too. When that didn’t work he tried chewing through his arm, but gave that up when he tasted his own flesh. Since then he’s just sat there, waiting, as if he knows we’ll come to him eventually. He’s been that way for over an hour now.”

  “Just what, exactly, do we hope to learn from this…thing?” Duncan asked.

  “I don’t know how much we can learn,” Cade replied without turning. “But right now he’s the only clue we’ve got. If there’s a possibility he can tell us anything, we have to try.” He looked at Riley. “What do you think?”

  “I wouldn’t want to be trapped in that room if it gets loose, that’s what I think.”

  “Agreed. Which is why I want you and Olsen on the other side of this doorway. If anything goes wrong, don’t hesitate. Get inside and put it down, clear?”

  Both men nodded.

  Cade continued. “Duncan, get with Captain Stanton and find out if there is anyone here who served with Bravo Team during the last five years. If there is, I want him here ASAP. Having a priest nearby might not be a bad idea either, so see who you can scare up.”

  “Will do.”

  “Good. Let’s move, people.”

  When Cade turned back to the mirror, he found Winston staring at it from the other side.

  Despite the fact that the mirror was one-way, Cade was sure the revenant could see him.

  To test his theory, Cade took three steps to his right.

  Winston’s head turned to track his movement.

  Back to the left.

  Again, the revenant watched him move.

  It seemed to Cade that, in the revenant’s eyes, there was a deep sense of longing.

  But whether that longing was over what he had lost or simply the desire for his next meal, Cade couldn’t tell.

  It took fifteen minutes to get the details squared away.

  Duncan returned with two men in tow. “Father Garcon, Corporal Reese, this is Knight Commander Williams.” To Cade he said, “I’ve explained to them both what we need. Reese spent three years with Bravo before being transferred here last year.”

  Garcon, a heavyset, balding man, was clearly the priest. Which made the younger man dressed in technician’s coveralls the former Bravo Team member. Cade led him over to the observation window and let him get a good long look at the former Knight on the other side, then said, “How well did you know him?”

  Without taking his gaze away from the glass, Reese said, “We were on the same squad for about eighteen months, sir. Spent some of our downtime together on leave.”

  “So he would know you on sight?”

  “Normally, I’d say yes, sir.” He didn’t have to explain his hesitation, given Winston’s condition.

  “Good enough. Despite his present condition, the Winston you knew still exists inside that shell. We need to reach him, get him to talk to us. I’m hoping that a familiar face might help him focus on who he was, rather than on what he has become, so I need you to go into that room with us when the times comes. Can you do that?”

  Reese hesitated, swallowed hard, and nodded.

  Cade clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

  The commander walked back over to the priest. “Thank you for coming, Father. My sergeant explained the situation to you?”

  The older man nodded, though he was clearly uncomfortable. He had studiously avoided glancing at the observation window since entering the room, and Cade noticed that Garcon’s hands were trembling as he unpacked his portable Mass kit on the table before him.

  “This man is a former Knight of the Order. His belief in God might still survive his present condition. Your presence there could be a great comfort to him.”

  Garcon finally looked up, meeting Cade’s gaze, and the commander immediately knew he had been mistaken. What he had taken for fear was actually anger. “And you, Knight Commander? Shall I pray for you as well?” The priest, obviously, did not approve of his methods.

  Cade ignored the question and the thinly veiled insubordination. “Just do your job, Father. I’ll worry about my own soul, thanks.”

  Turning away from Garcon, Cade addressed the rest of the men in the room. “All right. Let’s do this.”

  When Olsen and Riley were in their places, Cade stepped inside the interrogation room and moved quickly to one side of the door, as Reese and Father Garcon did the same on the other side. Once they were in, Cade quickly closed the door behind them.

  Winston watched them enter the room without getting up. His gaze lingered on Reese for several moments, and a low moan escaped his mouth when he caught sight of the purple stole around the elderly priest’s neck, but that was all. Neither man elicited more than a mild reaction.

  The revenant turned to look at Cade.

  He stared at him for a long moment, unmoving.

  Then he went berserk.

  Winston surged to his feet, straining at his chains and gnashing his teeth as an eerie howling cry burst forth from his mouth.

  Reese and Garcon recoiled, moving for the door; but Cade remained steady, knowing the chains would hold.

  Two feet away from the commander, the chains pulled Winston up short with a suddenness that yanked him off his feet. He slammed to the floor, only to thrash around wildly as he tried to pull himself closer to Cade.

  Cade tried several times to get the revenant’s attention, to ask him some questions, but to no avail. The creature was starving and it was clear to Cade that he wasn’t going to get anything useful out of him until something was done about it.

  Cade turned to face the one-way mirror, and said, “I need a knife. A sharp one. And a pressure bandage.”

  It took only a few moments before the door opened, and the two items he’d requested were slipped inside. Cade took it, withdrew the commando-style combat knife from its sheath, and tested the edge.

  A fine line of blood welled up where he ran his thumb along the blade.

  It would do.

  The creature settled down at the sight of the blood and watched Cade closely, as if sensing his intent. Winston’s hunger was like a phantom presence, palpable in its intensity.

  Under the creature’s watchful gaze Cade knelt and rolled up the cuff of his right pant leg. He set the knife’
s edge against the skin of his calf and drew it down sharply. A wafer-thin piece of flesh rolled up behind the blade and fell to the floor. Blood flowed, hot and sharp. Cade gritted his teeth against the pain and slapped the pressure bandage over the wound. Once he was certain the bandage would stop the bleeding, he bent over and carefully picked up his offering.

  The creature watched him, his eyes wide and staring, his hunger a pulsing need that filled the room.

  Cade cut the strip in half and tossed one section to Winston.

  The revenant’s hand shot out and snatched the offering out of midair. He shoved it in his mouth and chewed quickly.

  With that, Reese had seen enough. He banged on the door and exited the room quickly when Olsen opened it up. Surprisingly, Father Garcon remained inside. Cade could hear him whispering a prayer of mercy for the unfortunate man before them and turned to see if it would have any effect.

  Winston, however, didn’t notice.

  After feeding on even that small piece of flesh, an immediate change seemed to come over him. His gaze grew more alert, his attention more focused on the man standing before him.

  Cade gave it another try.

  “Listen to me, George. I know you can understand me if you try.”

  The revenant’s gaze never left the remaining strip of human flesh Cade held in his other hand.

  “I’m going to ask you some more questions. If you answer them, I’ll give you this.” Cade held up the flesh.

  If the revenant could have salivated, Cade was certain he would have.

  “Do you understand me, George?”

  Slowly, Winston raised his gaze from the meat to look Cade in the eyes. With a barely noticeable twitch, he indicated his understanding.

  “Good.”

  Cade paused, considering, and then asked, “Who did this to you, George? Do you know who it was?”

  Winston tried to speak, but his reply sounded like nothing so much as a choking bark.

  “I’m sorry, George, I didn’t understand. Try again.”

  Again the sound.

  It was obvious that he was trying to cooperate, but the damage to his vocal cords had progressed too far for him to be understood.

  Cade was not yet ready to give up. It was clear that the revenant still possessed the intelligence he had held in life; the person that had once been George Winston was still locked inside that body, struggling to get out. If he could, he should be able to tell them what they wanted to know. But first Cade would have to figure out a way to allow that to happen.

  As it turned out, it was the revenant himself who found the solution. With one hand he traced the number nine on the floor beside him.

  “Nine?” Cade repeated aloud, puzzled by the answer.

  The revenant repeated the gesture, his eyes locked on the strip of flesh Cade still held in his hand.

  “There were nine of them?”

  The revenant’s head twitched, and his hands clenched into fists as he sought to maintain control. His hunger was growing. Calming himself, he nodded.

  “Okay. The number nine.” Cade didn’t understand what Winston was referring to, so he moved on, hoping a different question might elicit a more understandable response.

  “What did they want?”

  Ignoring the question, the creature suddenly lunged at Cade, his hunger taking his self-control.

  Cade didn’t even flinch. He’d positioned himself carefully, and he simply watched as the revenant fetched up against the length of his chains and crashed back down to the floor, snarling.

  Cade ignored the outburst, trying to keep the creature from focusing on its hunger.

  “Do you know where they are, George?”

  Winston snarled and snapped at Cade with his rotting teeth, his control uncertain.

  Cade tried again. “Help me find them, George. Tell me where they’ve gone. Help me get the ones who did this to you.”

  Winston didn’t respond, just went back to staring at the flesh in Cade’s hand.

  “You’ve got to tell me more, George. I need your help. Do you know where they are?”

  Nothing.

  “Come on, George. Don’t stop now.”

  Still nothing.

  Just that stare.

  And the hunger it conveyed.

  Realizing that he would get nothing further from the revenant until it had fed again, Cade tossed him the thin strip of flesh.

  Like a rabid dog, the creature threw itself onto the morsel, its eyes alight with an unholy hunger.

  But as Winston raised the meat to his lips, he suddenly froze in mid-motion, his hand halfway to his mouth.

  He stayed that way for several long moments.

  Cade signaled for the others to hold still. As they watched, the former Templar shook his head violently, like a dog shaking itself free of water. He slowly lowered the hand holding the morsel to his side and mumbled something further.

  Moving slowly, Cade crouched so that he was on the same level as the revenant. “What did you say, George?”

  Again, the same garbled phrase.

  Impatiently, Cade moved closer. In the next room, Olsen and Riley both went on alert, but didn’t interfere with their commander.

  “Please, George. One more time.”

  Winston repeated his statement and this time, Cade understood. What he had first taken for gibberish was actually a two-word phrase, repeated frantically over and over again several times.

  “Help me.”

  Cade stared into the other man’s eyes and saw hope there.

  For what seemed like the longest time neither man moved.

  Then, in one swift motion, Cade drew his gun and shot the former Templar in the head.

  The revenant’s body crashed to the floor, unmoving, his gaze now fixed permanently on the wall behind him.

  As the Father Garcon stepped forward and began blessing the body, Cade stood, whispered a gentle, “Godspeed,” and turned away.

  He had a nest of necromancers to find.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  They spent the rest of that day and the majority of the next wading through database after database in an effort to correlate the scant leads they had against lists of known enemies of the Order. The initial threat assessment had come back with over four hundred groups or individuals who had reason to want to harm the Order, from rival religious groups to magickal societies that openly worshipped the devil. From there they had begun the process of correlating the list of names with other known facts, such as the ability to raise a revenant, proximity to the locations of the attacks, and any connection they could find with the number nine.

  By early evening, they still had way too many possibilities to contend with. It was going to be a long night.

  They needed more information, more details to help narrow the search.

  The hoped-for forensic results came back from Ravensgate late the next day, but ultimately proved unhelpful, confirming only what they already knew - that some person or persons unknown had assaulted the compound, murdered everyone on the grounds without the use of modern weaponry, then disappeared back into the night without a trace.

  The team was getting frustrated, the long hours of research without anything to show for it wearing at their nerves.

  They needed something else to happen if they were going to make any progress.

  In the early hours of their third day at Folkenberg, something did.

  Just after 3 A.M., Captain Stanton sent word that the Broadmoor commandery in upstate New York had just been attacked. This time, with the troops on full alert, they were able to repel the attackers after a fierce firefight. According to the base commander, they had a lot of information for Commander Williams.

  The plane was fueled and the team’s equipment loaded. With thanks to Captain Stanton and his men, Echo Team departed just as the sun was coming up over the horizon.

  *** ***

  A car and driver was waiting for them when they arrived in Syracuse just over an hour and a hal
f later. They passed the ride in silence, not wanting to talk about the investigation in front of a stranger, fellow Templar or not, the suspicion of an inside ally still prominent in their thoughts.

  They were met at the gate by the acting commander, Major Barnes, who led them onto the property and explained what his men had encountered during the battle the evening before. He told a harrowing tale of a wall of fog that enveloped the grounds, of spectral creatures that hunted in its depths. He told of their frantic efforts to throw back the invaders, only to be beaten time and time again. He summed things up with a look of disgust. “By the time it was over, we had thirty-five men dead, sixty-seven wounded. And all we have to show for our efforts was a single corpse.”

  Cade gave the man his full attention. “One of theirs?”

  “Yeah. Somebody made a lucky shot, it seems. We’re not sure why, but shortly after he was killed the fog dissipated, and the attack faded away to nothing.”

  Cade felt his excitement growing. “Let’s have a look at that body.”

  The corpse had been left where it had fallen, some hundred yards away from the entry in the open grass. The man had been in his early thirties, with long black hair and a well-kept beard. He was dressed in a thick robe complete with a hood, something that looked like it belonged in the Middle Ages, beneath which he wore a T-shirt and jeans. The bullet wound in his chest told the rest of the story.

  But it was the signet ring on his left hand that drew Cade’s attention.

  A ring with a skeletal snake chasing its own tail surrounding the number nine.

  Known as the Ouroboros, the snake symbolized many things in many cultures: the circular nature of life, the cyclical power of the universe, the idea that all things are renewed through entropy and decay.

  He had no idea what the nine represented, but at least he now understood why Winston had been focused on the number.

  Cade knew that he was looking at his first concrete clue to the attackers’ identities.

  Assuming that the dead man had been the sorcerer who had summoned the ghostly fog, it seemed logical to guess that his death had banished the creatures back to their own realm of existence.