She had held one before and had even taken aim at a gun range, but she was too nervous to pull the trigger.
“Get. It. Now.”
Jen had no problem with people carrying a handgun for their personal protection and had even applied for her own pistol permit a few years back. But something about guns didn’t sit right with her. They were fine for others (the right others, that is) but she couldn’t see how a gun fit into her life.
“Jen!”
Jen looked at Lisa’s hand and saw that the gun was gone. She looked up at Flannigan who again was darting her eyes between hers and the ground beside her. She slowly reached her hand down, into the foot-deep snow and felt the blistering cold steel of Lisa’s gun.
Jen could see a flash of relief and could hear a staggered pull of breath coming from Flannigan. The gun was in her hand but still hidden beneath the snow. Jen’s mind raced back to that time on the range. As her freezing hand grasped the gun, she recalled what the shooting instructor had told her.
“Two types of guns. Revolvers and semi’s. Revolvers are simple: Point, pull and shoot. Semi’s need to be racked first to put a round in the chamber.” She remembered holding both types of guns and could tell that the type in her freezing hand was a semi.
“Hurry!”
Her mind raced back to the brilliantly sunny day at the shooting range. “To rack a semi, pull back quickly on the top slide then release. Some semi’s have a safety and some don’t. If there’s a safety, switch it off. Bring the gun up to your shooting position with both hands gipping firmly, but not so firm that you lose mobility. Aim, then squeeze the trigger.”
She raced her thumb across the cold steel, feeling blindly for anything that felt like a safety switch. She felt nothing.
“Flannigan,” O’Keefe snarled, “you know her. Who is that? Is that the sender Henry said was working for you?” Jen sensed excitement in the old man’s voice.
Flannigan raised the thick branch over her head, then screamed at Jen, “Now.” Jen whipped the gun out from the snow, then, ignoring her shooting instructor, fired the gun with only one hand gripping the gun pointed directly at Stacy Flannigan. Flannigan was knocked backwards before falling to the ground. Jen stood and pointed the gun at O’Keefe.
“Stop right there,” Jen yelled through a shaking voice. “I will shoot you.”
It was the laughing that scared her the most. A horrible, gruff, demented laugh was pouring out of the other man at the bottom of the hill. He was the man Jen saw drowning some other man in the pond and now, despite her pointing a gun in his direction, he was laughing at her. He started walking towards Jen.
“Stop right there,” she yelled. “I will shoot you.”
“You said that already, bitch,” the man said and kept moving closer to Jen. “Put the gun down or shoot it. Don’t matter to me. You’re so fucking nervous you wouldn’t hit me if you took a hundred shots.”
“I swear, if you take another step…”
“If I take another step you’ll shoot and hit nothing but air. You killed my reward but I think you’ll make a decent enough consolation prize.”
The man was no more than fifteen feet away from Jen and showed no signs of stopping. His eyes, lifeless and almost pure black, were fixed on hers. She pulled the trigger but the man kept coming.
“Ooh, you little tasty bitch. You almost got lucky with that shot. Only missed me by thirty feet or so.” He laughed again then he launched into a sprint directly at Jen.
She pulled the trigger again when the man was ten feet away. Again, when he was five feet from her. And again, when he was so close that Jen could see the man’s gray, stained teeth.
He fell beside her, blood pumping out from the ripped opening her bullet had torn through his neck. Something inside her told her to turn towards the other two. The old man, his face awash with shock, was quickly backing away from Jen. She watched as he moved closer to the pond then he turned, and dove head first into the icy pond. Shocked, Jen turned the gun at the woman, who also was backing away. Jen’s eyes started to burn from the sweat falling from her forehead. She blinked the pain away and as she blinked, the image of her Kindle flashed.
“You are a sender. Send her back.”
Jen squeezed off a round, then another and another. The woman turned and started to run, but tripped over the body of the man laying lifeless near the pond. The woman fell then scrambled to her feet. Jen raced down the hill, the gun leading her way. She fired off another round, this one spinning the woman around as the 9mm bullet lodged into her shoulder.
“You bitch,” the woman screamed. “You damn sender. I’m going to rip your heart right out of your chest and shove it up your twat, you smelly bitch.”
Jen fired another round, stopping the woman in her tracks. The woman was panting through curled back lips. Blood dripping and flowing from her shoulder, the woman’s face seemed to transform into the face of a wolf. Jen fired another round, hoping for an endless supply of bullets in the magazine. The bullet slammed into the woman’s belly, causing her to scream in horrific agony. She fell to the ground but quickly regained her footing as she finally tore off running away from Jen.
Jen fired another errant round as the woman reached the trees and disappeared into the dark, thick woods.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Jen was torn. Twenty feet away, a man was lying, probably dead or very near death. A few feet beyond him, was the pond which the older man had jumped into and disappeared from view. Off to her right, less than thirty yards away was the forest where a woman with two bullets in her body had retreated to. Behind her, at the top of the hill, was Stacy Flannigan who had taken one bullet somewhere in her body. And beside Stacy, was Lisa.
Still holding the gun in her best impression of a shooting position, Jen scrambled backwards, her eyes bouncing between the pond and where the injured woman entered the woods. When she felt the slope of the hill beneath her feet, Jen turned and sprinted to Lisa’s side. She noticed that the bleeding had stopped and the crimson halo was disturbingly broad. She reached and felt for a pulse in Lisa’s neck.
“Oh my God,” Jen cried. “Oh my God, Lisa.”
She heard a noise coming from beside her. Jen raised the gun and pointed it directly at Stacy Flannigan who had pulled herself into a semi upright position.
“Did I kill her?” Stacy asked, her eyes fixed on the back of Lisa’s head. “Tell me, Jennifer, did I kill her?” Tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hit her so hard, Jen, you have to believe me. You, you two shouldn’t be here. Why are you here? Oh my God, Jen, did I kill her?”
The tears began to pour.
Jen moved closer to Lisa, turned her body over, confirmed there was no pulse, no breaths. Quickly, she breathed into Lisa’s mouth then began humming the song “Staying Alive” as she started CPR compressions.
It was only when Stacy Flannigan reached out, touched her arm after several minutes and said, “Jen, she’s gone, There’s nothing we can do,” did Jen stop trying to breathe and pound life back into Lisa.
“You killed her,” was all Jen said.
As Jen sobbed over the body of her friend, she saw Stacy hobbling in apparent pain down the path and towards the pond. Jen pulled herself away from Lisa’s body, recovered her grip on the gun and yelled to Stacy, “You’re not getting away. You’re not getting away with what you’ve done.”
Stacy ignored Jen’s calls and continued walking towards the still body near the pond. “We have to save him. He’s a sender, just like you. We have to save him.”
What Stacy had said, “He’s a sender, just like you,” snapped something inside Jen’s soul. With one last look at Lisa’s face, Jen bounded downhill. She reached Stacy who had begun trying to resuscitate the other sender. She pushed her away, and said, “You’re doing it wrong. Here,” Jen said, holding out the gun for Stacy, “take this. One of them went into the pond and the other headed into the woods. You shoot them if they come back.” Jen didn’t second doubt her ha
sty decision to give the gun to Stacy. Something told her that her list of enemies did not include Stacy Flannigan.
It took less than a minute before the man on the ground began coughing up dirty pond water. His eyes flashed open with a sudden look of horror.
“Don’t move,” Jen said to the man. “You’re alive. Stay still.”
Jen sat back, exhausted. She gazed at Stacy who was offering her the gun back. Jen took the gun and said, “I know what you are planning. We came here to catch you and then you killed my friend. Who are you really, and why did you call me a sender?”
“I had no choice. They’ve already started the plan.”
“Who did? Who started this plan?” Jen screamed, raising the gun at Stacy’s face.
“Hell,” Stacy answered. “And I called you a sender because only you and this man,” she pointed to the man on the ground who was coming to full awareness, “can stop them. You two are senders.”
<<<<>>>>
For the second time that month, Mac was being warmed by a fire in the middle of a forest, but this time, he was the one explaining things. He told Jen his story, about Rachel and how she had tricked and almost killed him. He told her about being a sender and the battle between good and evil and a sender’s role in that battle. He told her about part of his soul being scattered and about him never having rest until he gathered it back.
“You pulled me back from the in-between,” he said. “Thank you.”
As he continued to explain things that he didn’t fully understand, Jen sat in silence. She wanted to disbelieve everything Mac was saying but found it impossible to do so. And when Stacy Flannigan began telling them her story, Jennifer LaMore knew who she really was.
“A sender?” she said, softly, more to herself than to the others sitting beside her. “I’m a sender.” For her entire life, Jennifer LaMore waffled between the want to be unique, admired, respected, and, at times, the overwhelming desire to go unnoticed. For the most part, she had danced between these competing life directions but spent most of her days living her life how she imagined (or was told) others expected someone that shared her average appearance should live. Her doubts suspended, Jennifer LaMore knew what she was hearing was real and that her life, average to all others, would never again be the same.
After telling Mac and Jen everything she knew about Henry and his team of demons, and after fielding the multitude of questions both had, she looked Jen straight in the eye. Tears of remorse and regret filled hers, as she said, “I had no choice. No good choice, anyway. Henry kidnapped my brother, his wife, and their three kids, and promised to kill them all and steal their souls if I didn’t help him with his plan. My God, Jen, I am so sorry for everything, especially for Lisa. I just wanted to knock her out, then knock you out but I hit her too hard. I killed her, Jen, I’m so sorry.”
Jen stared at Stacy, her eyes filled with hatred, anger and sorrow. “Where were you for those eleven months?”
“What are you talking about?” Stacy said.
“I know you went missing for almost a year. You quit your position with the Ohio State legislature, then you were gone without a trace for almost a year. Where were you?”
Stacy held her eyes on Jen. Tears that Jen could only describe as being tears of regret, filled Stacy’s eyes. “I was with Henry. With his team.”
“Are you one of them?” Jen asked, moving away from Stacy and drawing the gun up level with Stacy’s eyes.
“No,” Stacy said, dropping her eyes to the ground. “Henry and I were lovers before he changed. Before he became what he is now. He and I would meet as often as our schedules allowed. At first, we kept our relationship completely secret. Neither one of us wanted anyone to know about us. He had his life and I had mine. After a while, he introduced me to some of his friends. I felt it was a turning point in our relationship. I actually believed him wanting to introduce me to his friends meant he was ready to take our relationship to the next level, and I was ready to do the same. But his friends weren’t really friends at all. One of them turned out to be a demon. Honestly, Jen, I had no idea what was happening. They convinced me to join them and promised me all the power and glory I could possibly imagine. But when they told me what I would have to do to join them, I got away.”
Mac said, “What did they say you needed to do?”
“Either kill myself, like Henry did, or kill someone else. I couldn’t do either. Wouldn’t do either. I ran away and went back to my life. That’s when Henry came back. That’s when Henry told me that part of my soul was gone and that I was a prisoner.”
Jen said, “He helped you win the election to Congress, didn’t he?”
“He did,” Stacy said. “They all did. And I fell in love with the power and I actually started to believe that I won the election on my own. I tried to convince myself that everything I did, everything I agreed to, would just go away once I was elected. When Henry told me what I needed to do, that I needed to help him with his plan, I told him I was done. I told him I would expose him and destroy his plans. That’s when he kidnapped my brother and his family. I had no choice.”
“We need to go to the police,” Jen said, fighting back her own tears and anger.
“We can’t,” Stacy protested. “They’ll never believe us.”
“You’re just afraid they’ll put you in jail. We’re going to the police.” There was a cutting hatred in Jen’s voice: A palpable disdain, mixed with consuming doubt.
“I don’t think that will help,” Mac said. “Stacy is right; the police will never believe us. They’ll never help us. We have to stop Henry and his team on our own. And,” he said to Stacy, “I’m sorry but we can’t bring you to a hospital to get your shoulder fixed.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Stacy said. “I know how to take care of my wound, but I will need you two to help me.”
<<<<>>>>
The three waited until Mac’s clothes were dry, keeping sharp eyes out for any movement coming from the pond or from the trees surrounding them, before starting back on the trail to the parking lot. When they passed the body of Ron, they paused. Mac told them about Ron and about the lie Rachel had told him. “She said the only way to kill a demon was by drowning, but, apparently bullets work as well. I should have known.”
“We need to do something with his body,” Jen said. “And I can’t leave Lisa here. We need to bring her home.”
“We will weigh down his body and sink him in the pond,” Mac said. “As for Lisa, I don’t think we can just carry her out of here. Someone will see us.”
“I don’t care if someone sees us,” Jen snapped. “If they do, we just tell them she slipped and hit her head on a rock.”
“Then what do we say when the police show up and start asking questions about the bullet wound in Stacy’s shoulder? Jen, I know this is impossible for you, but we can’t bring her with us. We have to hide her body somewhere and come back for her when we’re done with this whole thing. We have to.”
The sobs that Jen had been holding off erupted with fury. “What am I going to tell her family? And Jason? He’s going to call. What do I tell him?”
Stacy reached out to put her arm around Jen, but Jen twisted away. Stacy’s eyes filled with heavy tears as her own sobs began to softly reveal themselves. Stacy stepped away from Jen, looked Mac squarely in the eyes, and said, “I know what I need to do. I’ll handle everything. You two just need to trust me, which, I know, will be hard. But I know what I need to do. You need to listen to me. Let me tell you everything I heard, then, I need you both to do exactly what I tell you.”
Part Four:
The Battle Between Good and Evil
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Every news show, talk radio show and newspaper, lead with the same headline:
Congresswoman Stacy Flannigan Admits to Having a Role in the Ohio Terrorist Attack and the Murder of a Governmental Employee. Authorities still searching for the Congresswoman’s assistant, who is believed to have been killed or kid
napped by Stacy Flannigan’s accomplices.
“Do they have any idea how many people were or will be infected with the plague?” Jen asked Mac.
“Don’t think there’s any way for them to know,” Mac replied. “At this point, they’re still trying to round up all the players, figure out how they pulled it off, and how wide of an area the bacteria may have spread to. I read in the paper that the impact zones may stretch all the way to Boston.”
“My God, that’s millions of people.”
“Millions more might be exposed to those who were in the spread-zone.”
“This could wipe out half the population,” Jen said.
“The plague did exactly that before. But, I have to believe they can stop it this time. They must have vaccinations or some way to kill the bacteria. It’s just going to be scary as hell till they figure out what to do.”
Jen said, “And in the meantime, you and I will be in hiding and chasing demons around the world.”
The two had reluctantly agreed to the plan Stacy devised the previous day while they all were standing over Lisa’s body.
“You two have to get out of here, and go find Henry and his team. They have to be sent back. I’m too well known to even try to go into hiding. If we’re together, you two will be arrested as well. You’d probably both be released after a while, but we don’t have the luxury of time. I have to tell the police everything and I have to tell them about Lisa. You’re right, Jen, we can’t leave her out here all alone. I didn’t know her, but she deserves better.”
“You know that you’ll spend the rest of your life in jail, right?” Mac said. “And that you’ll be the most hated person in the world?”
“I know.”
“And, sorry to say this, but once Henry finds out what you’ve done, your brother and his family…”
The Demon Senders Page 19
