The Tears of Nero (The Halo Group Book 1)

by Jason Brannon

  From somewhere behind the mask, Lindell began to weep. Sorrow racked his body, and he trembled with grief. He planted his hands on the coffin to steady himself, but he couldn’t stop crying. It was as if all the years of pain were draining out of him in that very moment. Although Edward knew Lindell was seriously unhinged, he couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.

  “I brought you here because I wanted to understand,” Lindell said at last, composing himself enough to talk. “You lost everything too. Yet somehow you managed to hang on. You didn’t turn your back on God.”

  “I’ve had my own share of struggles,” Edward admitted. “I’m not perfect. But it’s not up to me to question the nature of God. Yes, you could argue that God took my life away, but He was the one who gave it to me in the first place. I lost my wife and my son. But I think about how much worse off I would be if I had never had them in my life at all. My wife and son were gifts that God gave to me. I have to be thankful for that, and I know I‘ll see them again one day. You should be thankful that God gave you a mother like He did who loved and cared for you. You could see her again too. I don‘t have all the answers. I‘m a normal guy trying to get through life the same as you. God never promised that we wouldn‘t have problems. Instead, He promised to give us the strength needed to make it through them.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Nero screamed, reclaiming his lunacy and his rage. He slammed his fists against the coffin and made a low, mewling sound in the back of his throat. “This angel is going to be an angel of retribution. This is the death angel, the one who‘s going to bring about the end of the world for a lot of people.”

  Edward didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”

  Nero smiled behind the mask. “Let’s just say that God isn’t the only one who can send a plague! With Alastor's help, lots and lots of Christians will reap the punishment for what God has allowed.”

  Edward went cold at the implication. “Morningstar.”

  “Lindell’s church is one of the largest in the world,” Nero said. “It’s not uncommon to have ten thousand in attendance on any given Sunday. Lindell’s parishioners love him. They adore him and believe he is the shepherd God has chosen to lead them in His ways. Their hearts will break when they learn that Lindell’s mother has passed on. They will mourn for him when they see him mourning. They will attend the funeral of the woman who gave birth to Halford K. Lindell. The body will be displayed for all to see, and they will file down one by one to have a look and to express their condolences. They will all breathe of the air inside that casket, and they will die…but not before passing it on to someone else! The Nero of ancient history was cold and calculating in his persecution of Christians, but baby, he ain‘t got nothing on me!”

  “No,” Edward said. “You can’t do that!”

  Nero laughed. “Oh, believe me. I can. And I will! Good night for now!”

  Edward hadn’t heard anyone sneak up behind him. He wasn’t quick enough to avoid the needle that plunged into his flesh. He only struggled for a few seconds before the world went black.

  Chapter 32

  When Edward opened his eyes, he felt the same way he did after waking on the beach with the other four members of his group: groggy, disoriented, drugged to the gills. Although it had only been a couple of days since he woke up with the salty taste of ocean water in his mouth and an earful of wet sand, it felt like he’d been stuck on this island for weeks. His head was heavy as if filled with mud, and his limbs were heavier. He opened his eyes, shut them again. Even his eyelids weighed too much to move.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as dark blotchy shapes danced in front of his field of vision. All he could do at this point was lay there and contemplate his life, the dangers Nero posed to an unsuspecting congregation, his own personal sorrows that Nero had resurrected like zombies from graveyard dirt. Edward thought about why he was in such a mess until tears streamed from his eyes. His arms were too tired to wipe them away.

  He was a good person, and bad things kept happening to him. Maybe Nero had a point.

  Edward considered this as he closed his eyes, went back to sleep, and dreamed of Jenny and Connor‘s last day on earth.

  *****

  It started as a typical day. Edward spent his morning at the church, preparing for his Sunday sermon, praying for guidance and clarity, tending to administrative duties, and meeting with the other members of the staff about various upcoming congregational events. The afternoon was spent at the hospital visiting those members of his flock who were sick.

  Throughout the day, Jenny called a couple of times to tell him things that their three-year-old son, Connor, had done. He had chased the cat around the house, hoping to pull its tail, flung Spaghetti-O’s on the wall and laughed uncontrollably because of the mess he made, and learned how to say the word seriously. Jenny had also sent him a few texts off and on with messages like “I love you” and “I can’t wait til you come home.” She never neglected the little things that kept their love alive. It was the kind of day that sounded ordinary to most people, maybe even a little boring. But to Edward, this was his idea of happiness.

  Edward and Jenny had been married almost five years, and their love was stronger now than it had ever been. They weren’t like most couples who grew complacent over time. Rather, they made love a priority in their house and made time for each other because when you got right down to it that’s what mattered. That’s what counted.

  Edward knew he was a lucky man. Jenny was beautiful. She had lustrous dark hair, brown eyes he could drown in, a smile that burned brighter than a hundred-watt bulb, and a love for him that knew no bounds. He was ordinary by comparison and spent many days wondering how God had seen fit to bless him so richly with a woman who was gorgeous, vibrant, energetic, and centered on Christ. Then there was Connor, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel that he adored, the child that put so many things in perspective when the world seemed out of order. God had given him so much. Edward knew he didn’t deserve any of it.

  After making all his rounds and tending to the errands on his list, Edward had locked up the church and gone home. Jenny had sent him a text saying she was making chicken quesadillas and tacos. Edward loved Mexican food and had been looking forward to the meal all afternoon.

  When he got there, Connor ran to him, throwing his arms around Edward’s neck. “I missed you, daddy,” he said in a sweet, little voice. “Seriously.”

  “I missed you too, knucklehead,” Edward said, kissing Connor softly on the cheek. “What have you been up to today?”

  “Playing, daddy,” the little boy said. “Seriously.”

  “Seriously?” Edward asked, smiling at Jenny as she rolled her eyes and grinned.

  “Seriously,” Connor said, giggling.

  “I tried to warn you,” Jenny said, laughing.

  Edward sat Connor down and walked over to Jenny. Her hair was mussed and she was sweating a little from standing over the hot stove, but she was still beautiful enough to take Edward’s breath away. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a kiss. “How’s my girl?” he asked.

  “Just been missing my prince,” she said, standing on her tiptoes.

  “Smells good, hon,” Edward said. “I can’t wait to eat. I’m starving.”

  Jenny stirred the meat on the stove and opened the cabinet. “Oh, no,” she said. “I forgot to get any shells.”

  “I’ll run down to the store and pick some up,” Edward said. “No big deal.”

  “How about this?” Jenny asked. “Why don’t you keep an eye on the food that’s cooking and we’ll run down to the store? You’ve been on the go all day long. Besides, I promised Connor I would get him a Hershey bar today. I forgot that too. We can go and kill two birds with one stone.”

  “I don’t mind going,” Edward said.

  “I know you don’t,” Jenny said. “You spend all day tending to everybody else’s needs. It’s my job to tend to yours. Remember?”

  Edward la
ughed. “OK, babe, I know when I can’t win an argument. I’ll try to keep the food from burning.”

  “You better do more than try, mister,” Jenny said with a laugh as she picked Connor up and headed for their Taurus.

  “I love you, Jenny,” Edward said.

  “I love you too,” Jenny said, winking at him and wrinkling her nose.

  “Hurry back, babe,” Edward said. “My stomach’s growling.”

  “We’ll be back in a few minutes,” Jenny said.

  It was the only time she ever lied to Edward.

  Edward didn’t get really worried until they had been gone for thirty minutes. He tried Jenny’s cell phone and was alarmed when his call went straight to voice mail. He paced in front of the stove, no longer hungry. The store was only a couple of miles away, and it should have only taken her fifteen minutes or so to get back.

  Edward considered all of the possibilities and tried to reassure himself that maybe she had run into somebody from church. That happened all the time. People loved to get in good with the preacher’s wife. Edward dialed her number at least ten more times in the next ten minutes and still got that annoying automated voicemail message. Jenny had never taken the time to put her voice on there. In the coming months, it was one of the things Edward wished she would have done. At least he could have heard her voice one more time.

  Knowing in his gut that something bad had happened, he turned off the stove, jumped in his Jeep and headed in the direction of the store. He saw the flashing lights before he ever heard the sirens, and the moment he saw the ambulance he knew what had happened.

  A uniformed deputy stopped him long before he reached the wreckage. “Bad accident, sir,” the officer told him. “Can’t let you go any further.”

  “My wife and son were going this way. They haven’t come back yet.”

  “What’s your name, sir?” the officer said calmly.

  “Edward Mills.”

  The officer chewed on his bottom lip. “I need you to pull over to the side of the road, sir.”

  “What’s happened?” Edward asked.

  “Sir, please pull over to the side of the road.”

  Edward got out of the jeep and started in the direction of the wreckage. “Sir, you don’t need to see this,” the deputy cautioned.

  “Are they…..?” Edward couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.

  “The other driver appears to have been driving under the influence. The collision was head on. I’m truly sorry.”

  “Both of them?”

  The deputy lowered his eyes, unwilling to meet Edward’s gaze. “I’m afraid so, sir.”

  Edward fell to his knees right there in front of the deputy and wept openly. Sobs wracked his body, and he shivered despite the warmth of the summer evening. “No, no, no,” he kept saying over and over again. “Please God, don’t let it be true.”

  But it was true. Just like that Jenny and Connor were gone. The Taurus they’d been driving looked like a giant had wadded it up and used it to play basketball. It was scarcely recognizable as an automobile anymore. One of the tires was missing. Broken glass was everywhere. Some of the shards of broken windshield were stained red, like the kind Edward had seen in his own church hundreds of times.

  Edward stumbled to his feet. The deputy had left him and gone off to help the EMTs extract the bodies from the car. The deputy obviously hadn’t counted on Edward’s stubborn disposition. The officer saw him approaching and rushed over to stop him.

  “This isn’t a good idea,” the deputy said.

  “Deputy….Rogers,” he said, looking at the man’s name badge. “The man who did this to my family. Is he dead too? Where is he?”

  Rogers stared at him and looked at the ground. “Not a scratch on him,” he said. “He’s in the squad car.”

  “He’s alive?” Edward asked, furious.

  “I’m afraid so,” Rogers said. “It's a shame if you ask me. He's the one who deserved to get hurt.”

  Before Rogers could react Edward raced for the cruiser and attempted to kick out the glass. The glass, however, was reinforced, and Edward jammed his knee in the attempt. The drunk looked at him with sleepy eyes and stuck out his tongue.

  “You took them from me,” Edward sobbed as the deputy pulled him away from the car. “You took them away.”

  The scene faded and changed as the drunk laughed at him from the squad car.

  The laughter sounded like magpies cawing on a telephone line.

  Then the laughter sounded like weeping.

  *****

  When Edward opened his eyes he discovered that he’d been the one crying. His cheeks were wet with tears, and his nose was running. The wound Nero had opened was fresh, raw, nasty. Edward was angry. Not so much at Nero anymore, but at the man who had stolen his wife and son away from him. Angry at God too.

  Why did bad things happen to good people?

  “Because God allows it,” Edward said, gritting his teeth.

  He remembered that Nero was planning to kill a bunch of innocent people by exposing them to a plague carried with the corpse of his dead “angel” mother. But he didn’t care much about that anymore.

  Let bad things happen to somebody else for a change.

  Some of those churchgoers might deserve what was going to happen to them. Edward, possibly, deserved all the pain he had received too, having sinned here and there throughout his life. Jenny had fallen short too. But what about Connor? He was an innocent.

  What about his son? He hadn’t deserved the fate that befell him.

  Edward pushed himself up off of the cold stone floor of the temple and looked over at the altar where the body of Lindell’s mother had been laying. She was gone now, but someone had been left in her place.

  Someone vaguely familiar.

  Edward’s mind reeled, trying to process what he was seeing. He knew this man. Or knew his face anyway.

  The man was in his forties. His salt-and-pepper hair was wild, and his eyes were wilder. He had the frightened look of an animal trapped in a snare, and he struggled to free himself from the shackles that held him. His mouth was bound with tape, and his ankles were chained to each other and to the stone table.

  Edward got to his feet and looked at the man, realizing what Nero had done. He wasn’t sure whether to thank the madman or curse him for reviving this horrid scene from the worst day of his life.

  A note had been pinned to the man’s chest.

  “Vengeance is mine saith the Lord. Surely you must want the same thing. So here‘s your chance. There‘s no one on this island to stop you, and best of all, no one will ever know. There is a boat not far from here. It will be yours…but at a price. This man spilled innocent blood. I’d like to see his spilled in return. Get your revenge, and I’ll gladly hand over the key to that boat and bid you adieu. Keep in mind that you’re one of the only people who know what I have planned with the death angel. So weigh the odds here. Do what it takes to make this wretch bleed, save tens of thousands of people in the process, and settle the score. Or, cling to your morals and watch as bad things happen to lots and lots of good people. The choice is yours. I’ll be watching.”

  Although Edward didn’t know how Lindell had managed to pull off such a feat, there in front of him, bound and gagged, was the very man responsible for the deaths of Jenny and Connor. There, before him, was the drunk.

  Edward ripped the tape from the man’s mouth.

  “Please,” the drunk begged him.

  Realization dawned in the drunk’s eyes as he recognized Edward.

  “No, please,” the man stammered. “I’m so sorry. It was an accident.”

  Calmly and methodically, Edward put the tape back over the man’s mouth.

  Chapter 33

  Edward paced back and forth, scanning the upper reaches of the temple for any sign of Nero. According to the madman, he was watching Edward’s every move, waiting to see if Edward would take the bait, rise to the occasion, and hurt the drunk that had killed
his wife and son.

  Edward clenched and unclenched his fists. He wanted to rush over and pound on Richard Marshall’s face. But by doing so he would be complying with Nero’s wishes and justifying the sociopath’s reasoning. Nero thought that because bad things happened to good people those good people had the right to rise up and strike back. Although his faith had waned considerably since Jenny and Connor were killed, Edward still believed that Christ was the way. Christ had instructed his followers to turn the other cheek. Edward knew that was what he should be doing, but it wasn’t what he wanted to do.

  He wanted to spill Richard Marshall’s blood. He felt like that was what the drunk deserved. Edward wanted revenge more than anything.

  Marshall stared at him with wide eyes, certain that his time on this earth was very short. He groaned and tried to speak through the tape that bound his lips. Edward walked over to the drunk and ripped the tape away again, still uncertain of what his next move would be. It was all he could do not to wrap his hands around the man’s throat and choke him until every ounce of life was gone.

  “You killed my wife and son,” Edward said. “They’re dead because of you.”

  “I’m so, so sorry,” Marshall said, blubbering now. Fat, wet tears streamed down his cheeks. “It was an accident.”

  “It was an accident that you went out, got yourself drunk, and slid behind the wheel of a car?” Edward asked, bunching his fists again.

  “No,” Marshall said. “You don’t understand.”

  Edward put the tape back over the drunk’s mouth. “I think I do.”

  Furious but unwilling to cave in to Nero’s demands, Edward walked over to the stone wall of the temple and hammered his fists against the cold stone, frustrated and unsure of what to do. He screamed and wept at the thought of all he had lost. He pounded the stones with his hands until they were bruised and swollen.

  He thought of Connor and his new word, seriously, and how he would never hear that again.

  He thought of Jenny and how he would never again kiss her lips and get the chance to tell her how much he loved her.