CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Audrey was thrown into the clearing, onto a patch of dried blood. The people formed a circle, swarming like flies around a dying animal. Some carried torches, long poles with gasoline-soaked rags tied around the ends. Others pushed to the front to reach the piles of rocks. Lilith Treitler was in the front row, grinning, raising two jagged stones. John Frakes stood beside her, a fist-sized rock in each hand; at his side, Timmy held a stone, and this time his father made no effort to spare the boy from the gory sights to come. There was Ms. Miederman, and Dorothy Gillis and her family, pushing their way to the front; George and Dawn Jacobs were on the opposite side, reaching into the pile of rocks.
In the torchlight their features were distorted and sinister; their ears seemed larger, pointed, their eyes were lupine as well, hungry and impatient.
Audrey rolled over, searching the ground for a weapon, anything, a stray rock to hurl into the crowd. If she took just one of them with her it would be worth it. She wasn't going down without a fight.
Seeing no available tool, she jumped to her feet to try one last tactic. "Look at yourselves!" she shouted, turning around, trying to address everyone. "What are you doing? I'm human – flesh and blood, just like all of you!"
The grocer stepped forward. "No, witch. You are not. You resisted the holy touch. Only the highest order of devils–"
"Spare me that crap," Audrey snapped. Terrified, afraid the words wouldn't obey her and come out as planned, she took a breath and tried to calm herself. "Your Reverend has no God-given holy touch, only a powerful talent that he has misused and manipulated to turn you all into mindless savages. Look at yourselves. My God–" she pointed to Timmy. "A little boy getting ready to commit murder! How could you make him a part of all this? What kind of man of God is this Reverend?"
"He is God's representative!" shouted Lilith.
"The Lord's defender!" insisted John.
"Bullshit!" shouted Audrey. "He's a sham. Look into your hearts and you'll see the truth. He tried to kill a little girl, for God's sake!"
"She was housing the devil," John calmly responded. "And we'll listen to no more of your lies, Satan." He turned and addressed the crowd. "This woman is a witch, and Satan is speaking through her." He looked back at her, then hefted the rock. "Do we suffer her to live?"
"NO!" returned the crowd.
Audrey yelled and launched herself at John Frakes. This was it; in another few seconds she would be caught in a storm of rocks, unable to fend them off. This was her last chance. Two heavy strides, preparing to leap and drag him into the circle with her–
She went down at once, a crushing pain in her thigh. Awkwardly balancing herself on one knee, she ducked as another rock whizzed by her shoulder. An older woman chucked one from a few yards away; it crunched into her side. Audrey fell over, gasping. Son of a bitch! "Stop!" She reached for one of the rocks that had struck her.
"WAIT!" cried the Reverend, in a booming voice. He pushed through a makeshift aisle in the crowd. He had donned his gloves once again, and seemed to have regained his composure. When he reached the inner circle he set a hand on John's shoulder, squeezed it in thanks, then turned to face Audrey.
"Your crimes are great, witch."
From a kneeling position Audrey glared at him. "Nothing compared to yours." She got to her feet. I beat you, you bastard. You did your worst but I pulled through. And I'm not going down yet. She gripped the rock tighter. Someone behind her gasped and started to shout a warning, but Audrey had already begun the swing.
She launched the rock with all her might, sending it directly for the Reverend's skull.
Without blinking Zachary lifted his right hand and squarely caught the stone, a few inches from his face.
The congregation murmured in astonishment.
The rock began to glow and sizzle. Zachary's fingers squeezed, and after an initial moment of resistance, the rock splintered and then exploded into jagged slivers and a fine dust.
He gave her a thin smile. "May your journey to Hell be swift." He turned his back, preparing to give the command.
But in the last second he saw something – at the same moment Audrey noticed it: a shadow in the Reverend's chambers at the top of the church tower. Beyond the shattered window someone was moving through the dark office. The crackling torchlight weakly reached the opening–
The Reverend's mouth hung open, and Audrey gave in to a small shred of hope.
The shadow took on a familiar form in the dull crimson illumination.
Nick walked to the window, holding Theresa in his arms. His hair was wet, soaked. And his clothes were stuck to his body, patches of water seeping through as if he had hurriedly dressed after a shower without toweling off.
Zachary's smile returned and he lifted his arms to the tower. People turned and looked, excited.
"I knew you wouldn't disappoint me," the Reverend said. "You save me the considerable trouble of searching for you."
Trying to direct his attention only at the Reverend and not allow his concern for Audrey to interfere with the plan, Nick rested a foot on the window ledge and spoke calmly, projecting each word.
"I've just come from your shrine, Reverend."
Zachary narrowed his eyes. A hush fell over the people, the air quiet save for the sparking flames.
Nick raised his voice. "People of Silver Springs. There are some things you should know about your Reverend."
"We will not hear your lies!" shouted John Frakes. He raised a fist to the window. Others shouted along with him, and Zachary grinned under their adoration, but a few appeared concerned, and at least interested.
That was a good sign, Nick thought.
"Reverend, why don't you tell them your real name?"
Zachary's smile fell. Had someone else breached his secret? The old librarian had dug up that wretched past as well. His blood began to boil; he would not lose control of this situation. Where was Lloyd? Zachary looked around for him, and thought he saw his outline at the back of the crowd, trying to move in.
Audrey glanced at Nick and saw he was looking over the crowd, down the hill, as if waiting for someone.
"Tell them, Reverend!" Nick yelled.
Several people turned their heads, waiting for the Reverend's response. Lilith and John gave him concerned looks. The grocer seemed ready to embark on another tirade of accusations about lies and deceitful measures.
Zachary growled.
And Nick continued: "Why don't you tell them where you lived before becoming this town's great leader? Why not tell them about your family?"
Zachary's fists clenched, veins bulged on his neck and face.
"The family you chopped up with an ax and buried in the woods."
Zachary screamed, and smoke hissed out of his blazing eyes. "Lies! I killed no one–"
"Chopped them up into little pieces."
"Satan, be silent!"
"Your brothers. Your sister–"
"NO!"
"Your mother?"
His words failed him. Zachary sensed a total loss of control, felt the crowd's adulation slipping. This couldn't happen; he had to turn it around. He had lost the Senator, his mission had been delayed if derailed, but all wasn't lost. Not by far. He could stop this, now. "They were evil! Contaminated by the devil!"
"You're a sinner, Zachary."
"No." Calmer now. He had God on his side. "I am the Lord's agent. He commanded me to slay the demons–"
"And cut them up?"
"Yes."
"Your family?"
"Demons."
"Except your mother. You didn't cut her up. Didn't bury her, did you?"
Zachary gasped, closed his eyes. The change was coming. He couldn't let it start – not here, not now. His stomach rolled and turned, his pulse thundered. The skin under his clothes bubbled and shifted, his eyes bulged. Overhead, the clouds gently eased away from the bright sickle-moon.
"Sinner," Nick said.
"NO! I am without sin. I–"<
br />
"But you did sin. Isaac murdered his family. Killed his mother. Remember your Ten Commandments?"
"Evil," Zachary hissed, concentration failing. The pain of the change was intense. Couldn't focus. "They were evil. And that wasn't me. Someone else–"
"You can't change your sin simply by changing your name, Reverend. You should know that."
"I gave my life completely to God, to weed out evil, to..."
Nick slowly shook his head. "You haven't repented, Isaac. Haven't atoned. Your sin still follows you."
John Frakes, loyal John Frakes, shouted and tossed a rock to the window. It went wide. "Are we to listen to any more of this hell-spawned filth?"
Some people backed away from him. Others seemed unsure, glancing nervously at the Reverend, then looking at the rocks in their hands, as if shocked by their presence.
Zachary stared down at his own hands. The gloves were turning red, seeping with blood and pus from the split skin. The white fabric tore as bloody protrusions ripped free.
"You haven't repented!" Nick repeated. And then he pointed toward the sloping hill. "Look, Zachary. Look, Silver Springs. Look at your Reverend's guilt, look at his darkest sin, the one he tried to drown in the lake."
Every head turned, every eye strained.
"Look at his retribution. Look… at his mother."
And over the hilltop, moving in slow, jerky steps, her withered, bony arms stretched out, fleshless fingers clasping and unclasping, Deborah came. She wore a torn rag that was splotched with stains that had once been blood. And her skin, where it was left, was a horrid shade of green and was home to hundreds of writhing, slug-like burrowing creatures. Dirt and leaves clung to her wet, bloated feet and her head hung at an awkward angle, a deep gaping slit on one side of her neck; another gash decorated the right side of her skull, and inside, a nest of worms and leeches fed on her well-preserved brain.
Audrey tore her eyes away from the shambling horror and looked back to the tower. Nick had retreated into the room and let darkness claimed him. Quickly Audrey searched for a pocket in the terrified crowd, somewhere to slip through and escape. Over a row of scrambling heads she saw Lloyd's angered expression; he was aiming a rifle toward the church, and desperately trying to push through the mob.
Before rushing in the opposite direction through an opening she took one last glance at Zachary. He was still on his knees, staring in utter shock at the wet figure trudging closer, pushing now inside the clearing, scattering the townspeople.
Her hollow eye sockets locked on the Reverend, her son. Zachary's hands were glowing and had burnt away the last tatters of the gloves. His face bulged and heaved, like a cheap special effect done with clay and smoke. His black clothes split in several places: along his arms, under his ribs, over his chest and on his legs, and a host of leathery ropy things slithered free, swaying to an abhorrent melody only they could hear.
Audrey ran.
And Deborah shambled closer.
John Frakes dropped his rock and backed up, staring now at the Reverend. He crossed himself and looked on in horror. All eyes were riveted on Zachary – the man they had followed and loved for the past four years, revering as a prophet and a savior.
Now they saw him as he really was.
Audrey was caught in the crowd as it sealed shut again to witness the upcoming confrontation. She was bumped and jostled and forced around to watch.
Deborah closed the last few feet surprisingly fast and in the blink of an eye her bony hands were around Zachary's throat.
"Isaac."
Zachary went limp in her gasp, his knees bent, face paling. The whipping snakes snapped at her, coiled around her arms and legs, yet seemed weak, operating without full power.
"Mother..." Zachary gasped. "No."
His eyes rolled up and his hands flailed ineffectually through the air.
The gruesome, tattered body continued to squeeze the life out of the Reverend, and the people continued to watch, horrified.
Several women in the front row tumbled and fell face-down, struck from behind. And, cursing, Lloyd pushed through and lifted the rifle to his shoulder, sighting along the barrel.
The red beam flickered and settled on Deborah's left eye socket.
Three rounds pumped into her skull. After the second, pieces of her brain and several teeth scattered into the air. The third bullet tore her head apart.
But the hands continued to squeeze. Zachary slumped lower, the ropy appendages descending, lethargic.
"Hellspawn!" Lloyd shrieked and ran at the headless thing, butt of the rifle raised. He bashed it once in the chest, over the flaccid breasts, then drove down on each elbow, finally wrenching her hands free. Gagging from the smell, Lloyd backed up and delivered a quick side-kick to Deborah's stomach and sent her sprawling onto her back.
With two efficient strides, Lloyd walked up to the body, following it as it crawled weakly toward the church. Townspeople made room and let Lloyd pursue it. He reloaded the rifle as he walked behind her.
The people reformed the circle, around Zachary.
Audrey saw the Reverend holding his throat and gasping for air.
Beyond the crowd, Lloyd lowered the rifle and fired. Round after round he pumped into the creature's body. Blew the spine into six disjointed pieces, tore great chunks out of her back, and tore off both arms at the shoulders. Two more rounds into the heart and finally, Deborah lay still.
Satisfied that the demon was dead at last, Lloyd turned in time to see several torches passed up to the center of the circle.
"No," Reverend Zachary whispered, holding his hands up. He desperately searched the faces of the enclosing townspeople, his flock. But the torches seemed to burn away all traces of respect or compassion, or obedience.
"Please," he implored, weakly. He looked at the deadly mutations flaying outside of his body, looked at his skin, torn and bloody, sprouting monstrous sights, images of the very demons he had taught his flock to seek out and destroy.
"Obey me," he commanded, this time to his own rebellious body. He held out his hands in supplication. "This... this is the Lord's gift. You must believe me."
Something whistled through the air and struck him hard right between the eyes, shattering the bridge of his nose. A thick gout of blood rushed from his nostrils and painted the front of his shirt. Through dazed eyes he saw the image of the young boy – Timmy – standing straight ahead, between two of the torchbearers. His expression was one of grim satisfaction as he reached for another rock.
"No," Zachary said through the blood. "I'm not a sinner. I'm your savior. I will deliver you!"
The torches moved in.
"You need me! You're all evil. Only my touch can save you! Only-"
The flames dipped lower.
"Please," he gasped, blinded by the crackling torches and their merging fires. "You need–"
His silver hair was the first to burn, springing into laughing crimson flames that licked his face and swallowed his skull. He opened his mouth to scream and the fire bowed and slipped inside. The torches were dropped around him and the people stepped back, blinking as the Reverend's body ignited into angry, dancing flames and sent a blast of swirling heat in every direction.
He staggered to his feet, spinning and thrashing, waving his arms and howling like a wolf with a broken spine. The mutations burned and twisted in intense agony; his eyeballs exploded and his skin melted and he flopped to the ground, still jerking and twisting.
The smell of burnt flesh was overpowering.
At the back of the crowd, John Frakes pushed through and grabbed Lloyd by the shoulder. "Please! Help him. Help the master. He's dying. He–"
Lloyd angrily pushed him away. There were tears on his cheeks, dripping from eyes that reflected the fiery inferno whipping around the Reverend's blackened husk. "It's over," he said. "No help but to continue his mission." And to slay those responsible. The FBI bitch, and the kid I chased from Connecticut.
"NO!" John shouted; he dro
pped to his knees and crawled to Lloyd, hands folded in prayer. "Save him. You have to."
But Lloyd's attention was elsewhere, scanning the crowd for the woman. Where–?
"For God's sake, help the Reverend!"
Lloyd spun, tore free of the groping hands, and leveled the rifle at the grocer's head. "Get away from me," he said through clenched teeth. The laser sight licked the back of John's throat.
John shook his head and didn't have time for a prayer before the muzzle spat its lethal gift. He died instantly, on his back, staring up at the hungry moon.
And Lloyd stepped over the body, searching for the rest of the demons.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Audrey ran, favoring her left leg. Away from the flames and the ravaging mob. Toward the church where she had just seen Nick and Theresa reach the bottom of the stairs. Nick took a step outside, still holding the girl in his arms; he started to call Audrey's name at the same moment she began to run. Relief washed over his face and he tried to set Theresa down, but it wasn't necessary. Audrey reached them and threw her arms around them both.
"I bet you've got some stories."
Nick started to respond, stiffened, then hauled her inside the doorway.
Two explosions ripped into the door frame and something whizzed past, into the church. Theresa screamed in a shrill pitch. Nick sprang up and slammed the door; he fumbled with the latch for an agonizing second, then finally slipped it into place and ducked down.
A small hole ripped through the wood, about chest-high.
"Run!" he spat. "Through the church."
Theresa was first on her feet. "Quick! We can escape into the forest, like I did before."
Audrey ran after her, weaving between pews toward the side door. Behind them, another gunshot; she risked a glance back, saw that the latch had been blown halfway off the door and Lloyd's hand reached through the crack. She thought she could see the hitman's mad eyes searching her out.
Crescent Lake Page 29
