His son let out a muted scream and his body went rigid. Tears streamed from his eyes and down the sides of his nose.
David's shoulders sank. "I couldn't let him hurt you, Ben."
His son quaked with sadness. But, thankfully, David didn’t have to watch for long. The officer grabbed Ben and hoisted him over his shoulder. The boy kicked and flailed, but he was no match for the man.
David lurched forward. "Once I'm gone, will this be over? Will you leave my family alone?"
The man in the SWAT uniform didn't even look at him. He went to the door. "Goodbye, David. Die well."
David felt the pill bubbling in his stomach and sensed the gravity of what he had just done. He got to his feet and watched the man walking away through the open expanse of the unfinished office with his son kicking and grunting. It was over. His fate was sealed. He would never see his family again.
He twisted around and looked at the office desk on the other side of the room. On the corner of the desk sat a black phone. He couldn't see them again, but maybe he had enough time to say goodbye. He ran to it and lifted the receiver. It was dead. Even the consolation of saying goodbye to his wife and daughter had been denied him. He slammed the receiver back down and dragged his hands across the desk, sending everything crashing to the floor.
A spike of pain stabbed his gut and caused him to double over. He could feel the poison entering into his bloodstream. This was it. He’d be dead soon.
The energy drink he had consumed earlier had his mind churning at top speed through a flurry of thoughts, from where they might bury his body, to all of the events that had led him to this moment. Then—it stopped.
His hand shoved into his pocket, pulled the mustard packets free, and slapped them on the desk. It was not like God to leave anything unresolved. If he had picked up mustard packets, there was a reason. Was mustard an antigen to the poison inside his body?
A memory forced its way to the surface. In his mind’s eye, he saw his friend Tanner with a murky yellow concoction in his hand. Alex was standing next to him, egging him on. For thirty bucks, Tanner had agreed to drink a cup of warm water and mustard to see if it really caused people to puke. Within fifteen seconds he had unleashed a fury of vomit all over his mother's kitchen.
David and his five friends had never laughed so hard in their lives.
He snatched the packets up. That was it! If he could make himself vomit, he could get rid of the poison! He looked frantically around. Where? Where could he get warm water? He spun toward the door. The coffee maker!
He burst out of the room and over to the makeshift coffee station where he pulled the water pot free of its socket. Another stab of pain bent him over, but he fought against it. With trembling fingers he tore the packets open one at a time and squeezed their contents into the pot. Pain gripped him again and his legs buckled. The warm mustard water sloshed over the sides and splattered his skin.
He brought the pot to his mouth and guzzled the bitter warm liquid, allowing it to pour down the sides of his face. He drank as much as his high school friend had drank, and more, swallowing gulp after gulp of the vile stuff, until the switch went off in his stomach. With great force, all he had put in, came back out in wave after wave of violent torrents. The pot flew away from him as his hands and knees hit the wood floor with a thump and a slap. He vomited until there was nothing left, then continued to wretch in dry heaves. Before each surge, he prayed for it to end, yet, at the same time, prayed everything would come up.
Through teary eyes he saw it, the green pill, still mostly whole, lying on the wet floor amidst strewn clumps of food matter. His stomach wretched once more, then he sat back on his knees and gripped his gut. Nothing else came up.
His balance went haywire and sent him crashing onto his shoulder. Some of the poison had made it into his veins. The ceiling, spinning like a pinwheel, proved it conclusively. But he would live. Assuming he could get himself up and out of this room before the officer came back to make sure the pill had done its job.
He sprawled on the floor and found his way back to his hands and knees. Gravity seemed to be drawing him to his left, instead of down, so he compensated and climbed to his feet.
The room appeared to have only two exits, the one he’d come in through and another off to the side. Judging by the large concrete walls going from floor to ceiling, there was a reasonable chance the door on the side led to a stairwell. He wiped saliva and snot from his face and shuffled toward it, ignoring the pain in his gut and the growing fire in his veins. Three hollowed offices stood between him and the door. If he kept on his feet and managed to avoid tripping, he had a chance of making it out before the demon-possessed man returned.
A loud thump echoed behind him and his body surged with adrenaline. He locked his eyes on the stairwell door and broke into a slanted run. The room tilted and wobbled, sending him into a load-bearing beam, but he pushed off and forced himself through the unfinished office and into the next one.
"HEY!" a man shouted behind him. The timber of the voice made it reverberate off the hardwood floors and metal ceiling, making it impossible to figure out where it had come from or how far away it was.
David pushed himself faster, launching from two-by-four to two-by-four.
"DAVID!" yelled the voice. It sounded closer.
His eyelashes flicked up and sweat stung his eyes as he estimated the distance to the metal door. If he managed a dead run, he could make it in few seconds, but what then? In his current condition, the officer would easily overtake him in the stairwell. If he was going to get out of this, he would have to fight.
The room bent and rippled as he scanned for a weapon, a wooden plank, a spike, anything. In the corner of the framed office, he saw a pile of work bags near a set of white plastic buckets. He launched himself to them and dug into a bag. All he was able to find before the sound of feet came up behind him was a hammer. He yanked it out, spun around, and swung it with all his strength. "BACK!" he screamed. But his voice came out in a gurgle, and the hammer missed its target.
"WHOA!" said the man, sidestepping.
It took him a moment to realize that this man wasn't wearing a SWAT uniform. It was a suit coat, but he couldn't make out the man's face with his palms shoved out as a shield.
Another voice cut through the hollow room. This one he recognized.
"DAVID!"
He let the hammer fall loosely to his side and wobbled his head in the direction of her voice. A shimmering figure moved toward him through the wavering lines of the wood beams.
Before he could bring her face into focus, he crumbled to the ground, and darkness overtook him.
Chapter 23
Through the swimming darkness, David heard talking. He opened his eyes a slit and looked out across a white hospital room. In the doorway Agent Collins stood talking to a doctor. "No one is to come in or out of this room unless they are accompanied by me or one of my people. Is that understood?"
The doctor's voice was detached and professional. "I'll let my staff know. Is there anything else you need from us?"
"He's stable, right?"
"Yes. We don't foresee any complications. Because he was able to fashion an expectorant, the majority of the poison didn't have a chance to get into his bloodstream. We also found yogurt in the sample you brought us. That means he had a probiotic already in his system at the time of ingestion, which also helped. He should be fine, but if his condition changes, we'll let you know before treating him."
"Thank you, doctor." The doctor pulled his clipboard to his chest and exited. Collins shut the door and turned to David. His head cocked. "Welcome back."
A hand touched his arm, and, though it took a tremendous effort, he turned and looked up at his wife hovering over the bed. He gave a weak smile. "My head feels like a sack of rocks." Tears shone in her eyes and twinkled as her cheeks lifted. He swept his eyes over the room. "Is Ben safe?"
"Yes. He's safe. They have the children in a waiting room, under gu
ard."
The demon had done as promised. His son was safe. A long breath of relief allowed his chest to relax.
"What happened in that office, David? Ben is too frightened to talk about it."
Memories burst in his head like fireworks. Ben bound and crying, blood stains on the pale carpet, Brad, lying on the floor in a bloody heap.
"Brad!" He attempted to sit up. "Where's Brad?"
Sharon’s hands slid to his chest and her face scrunched. "Brad?" she said. "Brad's dead, David."
"Um, actually, he's not," said Collins.
Her eyes grew wide as she looked up at him.
"In fact, he's here in the hospital, if you'd like to go see him."
Her mouth hung open. "Why..." her eyes flicked to David, then back to Collins. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I'm sorry, Sharon. It came over the wire, but things have been so crazy, I haven't had a chance to mention it."
David gripped her hand and looked at Collins. "How is he doing? Is there any permanent damage?"
"His wounds are substantial, but not life threatening. He'll recover."
Sharon's brow tightened. "What happened to you two?"
"They tortured him. The demons. They knew they couldn't kill me, so they tortured him to see if I had the willpower to kill myself."
"That's horrible."
"Brad was just a practice run. They were going to do the same thing—or worse—to Ben, if I hadn't proven myself."
"Well, you're safe now."
"And Brad's safe," added Collins. "We have agents watching his room."
Cynicism returned like an old and bitter friend. "I don't imagine it will be enough."
Sharon squeezed his hand. "God will protect him, David."
"Will he, Sharon? Where was God when that demon guy bludgeoned him half to death? Sure, they can't kill us, but is death really the worst thing imaginable?"
"I'm sure God had a reason for allowing it."
"I don't want to sound ungrateful, but I've had all I can take. I know I should be thankful that God chose me and everything, but I can't do this anymore. I don't even know what I'm supposed to be fighting for."
"Whatever it is, it has to be important if God is involved."
"But when does it end?" he almost whined. "Will it end? It's not like fighting a human enemy. These beings can hunt us and haunt us mercilessly until the end of time. If we manage to stop one, they just hop to another host and keep coming. How do you fight that?"
"We do what's in front of us and let God work the rest out."
"I can't do this anymore. I'm tired, tired of being terrorized, tired of watching them hurt the people I love. I just want it to be over."
Sharon stroked David’s hair. "Try to rest," she said soothingly. "You’ve been through a lot."
David set his jaw. "I’m not doing this any more. I’m done."
The room was quiet.
Finally Collins spoke up. "You're just going to walk away."
"Yes. In fact," said David, speaking directly to his invisible tormentors, "I officially resign."
"You can't do this," Sharon said, in disbelief.
"Do you hear me?" he said again, to the air. "If you leave my family and my friends alone, I'll ignore the messages! I'll stop interfering."
Sharon made a face like she’d just eaten a lemon. "You're letting them win."
He turned and glared at his wife. "You don't know what it was like watching that man beat Brad to a bloody pulp. God allowed that to happen! They took our son, bound him, and hid him in a closet for hours. They poisoned me..."
"But God brought us through, David!"
"I'm done," he said, exasperated. "I am not going to watch them torture my family, my friends. I can't do it! I'm not strong enough. I know you think I am, but I'm not!"
She gripped his arm. "God will give you the strength."
He felt the emotion boil in his face. His chin quivered. "I don't want to have the strength to watch them hurt you!"
"You really think God will give you more than you can handle?"
A cold, dark feeling slid over him like a blanket, and his voice came out lifeless and bitter. "He already has, Sharon." His face tightened. "He already has."
Chapter 24
Jon waited for Jillian to give her statement to the police; sitting in the limousine, staring out the window in silence.
But inside his head, it was anything but silent.
What was that all about!
"We don't understand the question, nor the hostility with which you have posed it."
The police think I'm involved in the kidnapping and assault of Karen Knight's husband!
"But you didn't."
It doesn't matter that I'm not, they're suspicious of me, because of you. He looked out at two officers eying his limo as they talked. They're going to find something to connect me to this. Or just bring me in on the testimony of Karen Knight.
"Why do you fear?"
The question caused his brain to come to a full stop. It was a good question. What was he worried about? It wasn't like he couldn't prove he had the ability to know when and where things were going to happen before they happened. He’d been proving his pseudo-psychic ability all morning. If the police tried to make a case—that the only way he could have known what was about to happen was to have had knowledge of the criminal's plans beforehand—he could simply prove his ability again.
I'm sorry, he thought, regaining his calm. It’s hard to get used to all of this.
"As you obey our commands, you will grow stronger. The harder the challenge the stronger you will become until your strength is complete. Then you will be ready to save the world."
John blinked. Save the... From what?
"Ignorance. Your world is a wounded animal. It is dying—and it is unable to understand that, although we shall cause it a moment of pain, it is for your own good. When your strength is complete, you will be the instrument that causes great hurt to your world. But on the other side, it will be healed.
The door to the limo opened and Canary climbed in next to him. Immediately her ever-attentive eyes were on his face. "Are you okay?"
Was he okay? Was he content to move forward no matter where the voices took him? There was no doubt they were leading him to do something deadly, but was he willing to follow no matter where the road led? How could the answer be anything but yes? He was nothing before they came into his life, less than a shadow on the wall, an unwelcome visitor on the planet. But with their guidance, there was no end to what he could become. Did it matter what they were turning him into? Anything was better than what had been. Anything.
"Jon?"
His head jilted up. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Are you okay?"
He reached over and put his hand on hers. "Of course. Yeah. I'm okay. Are you?"
Her lips pursed. "It's a little scary—and weird, how you knew her husband would show up like that. What you are able to do is- it's amazing, Jon."
He didn't know how to respond to her compliment. Could he actually take credit for something he didn't do? "Thanks, I guess."
"You guess?"
"It's not like this power belongs to me, or anything."
She started to speak, but stopped herself.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"No. What were you going to say? You can ask me anything."
"It wasn't a question."
"Okay. Then what was it? I don't want there to be any secrets between us."
She sighed. "You wouldn't understand."
"Give me a chance. I trust you, Jillian." He liked the sound of her real name on his lips.
"Would you be mad if I told you I believe your wonderfully amazing ability comes from you and not alien beings from another planet?"
He suppressed a grin. "I think you would laugh if you knew how impossible that is."
She rubbed his forearm with her warm hand then slid it down to rest on his wrist. The sensation set his senses on fire. "I'
m not supposed to tell you this," she said. "I promised Jakson I wouldn't. But my feelings for you are stronger than I ever imagined they would be, and that is saying a lot. I mean, I knew I cared for you, but being here, being so close to you, you can't understand what it is like. I’ve watched you for years. I’ve laughed with you. I’ve cried with you. I’ve grown up with you. Through your pain, I learned how to deal with my own. But being here, actually being here, so close to you, after all this time... I don’t ever want to be away from you again."
"I feel the same," he said, looking into her crystal blue eyes.
"I'm telling you this, because I need you to understand the heart with which I say what I'm about to tell you. And I want you to know that it doesn't change how I feel about you."
"Okay, now I'm a little nervous."
"Jon. Your incredible and wonderful mind is broken. The voices you're hearing are split personalities. They are not extraterrestrials."
He laughed. "Is that what Jakson told you?"
"Yes. And he has never been wrong."
"Well, there’s a first time for everything."
"These powers you have, these amazing powers. They are yours. You're doing all this."
"Then why don't I know what I'm going to do next?"
"You do. You even revealed it to me. You are on the same mission I am."
"And what mission is that?"
"You're going to stop the unifier."
He laughed again. "Who?"
She looked confused. "You said it yourself, you're going to stop an evil man from plunging the world into darkness."
"Did I?" He honestly couldn't remember. Things were moving so fast.
"There is a prophecy that one will rise and unite this county for a terrible purpose. I believe you have seen that future. I believe you know what the unifier will do, and the stress of it broke your mind."
Lies (The David Chance Series Book 3) Page 14
