Lesser Creatures

by Peter Giglio

  Just as he was regaining composure, his door clicked open. Perhaps the detective hadn’t left after all. Could something he had said have cast delayed suspicion?

  He put down his coffee and ambled into the living room.

  In the doorway she stood. Monika. Not as he had seen her in the meeting, but as he had known her in life. He closed his eyes, certain he was imagining this moment, and sensed her approach, the air alive with her feminine fragrance.

  “No,” he said.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  Opening his eyes slowly, he found her in front of him. And it was no trick of light or imagination. She was alive and breathing, beautiful.

  “We have to go,” she said. “We’re not safe here.”

  “Go? Go where?”

  “I’d rather not say here. We have to go.”

  “How is this possible?”

  “I have so much to explain, and I will. But for now—”

  He interrupted her with a kiss, long and deep, holding her close. As much a test as anything. The results proved positive. This was her; the way she held him, the movement of her tongue.

  Love never forgets.

  She pulled away from the embrace, took his hand, and said, “Do you still have your father’s Colt?”

  “Yes,” he said. She’d always hated the thing and had complained every time he’d taken it to the shooting range. But now, he could tell, she needed it.

  “And bullets?”

  “It really is you,” he said, touching her face.

  “Later,” she said. “Now I need you to grab the gun and bullets, then we need to get out of here.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Sundays were for family.

  That was the promise Frank Allen had made to his wife Sylvia years ago, and he’d never broken it. So when Steven Lingk showed up on the Allen family doorstep that afternoon, interrupting the game of Scrabble he was enjoying with his wife and daughter Chelsea, Frank was pissed.

  Lingk looked haggard. Dark circles under his eyes, shaking like a junkie. Frank was two seconds from slamming the front door, when the pastor held up a hand and said, “Monika Janus won’t be in on Monday.”

  Frank lowered his voice for the benefit of his family, who were waiting in the living room within earshot of the foyer. “What are you talking about?”

  “We need to speak. Someplace private.”

  He reluctantly gestured for the man to enter, then to stay put. He leaned into the living room. “Sorry, girls,” he said. “I have to step away for a moment.”

  Sylvia’s eyes narrowed. “How long will this take?”

  “Continue with the game. Seems there’s a little emergency at the office.”

  His wife opened her mouth to protest, but Chelsea mercifully interrupted, “Go ahead, Daddy,” she said. “No worries.”

  “Thanks, dear. I hope this won’t take long.”

  But he could tell by the look on his wife’s face there were worries. Just thinking about how much it would cost him to get out of the doghouse on this one made his mind reel. He yanked the pastor into his office. He wanted to slam the door, but he shut it gently for his family. Then he eased behind his desk and sat down. “Sit,” he commanded.

  “If it’s all right, I’ll—”

  “Sit,” he growled.

  Lingk sat.

  “Now what the fuck is going on?”

  “The Curse works both ways,” Lingk said.

  “What the hell does—” And then it hit him. Monika Janus had killed a human being. If what the pastor was saying was true, that could only mean…

  “She’s alive,” Lingk said.

  A career in sales and marketing had taught Frank much about the human condition, as had his time in the military. He could sense when a man was lying, and even though he suspected Lingk was hiding something, he believed him. Still, he had to be cautious. “What are you up to?”

  “I’m trying to warn you—”

  “You couldn’t care less about me. And how dare you show up at my doorstep uninvited?”

  “I tried calling first, but—”

  “Family day,” Frank said, spreading his hands wide. “We turn everything off. Or does a man of your faith not value family?”

  “This is urgent.”

  “I understand that. But what’s your angle?”

  “We can’t let this get out. If Monika goes to the press, the world will break out in chaos. If second-lifers can be born again by—”

  “You love this, don’t you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This justifies your theories of immortality. Or evolution, or whatever you called it. Hell, I can’t keep you straight.”

  “But someone has to die in order—”

  “Do you think I’m an idiot? The person who dies comes back as a second-lifer and then, boom, kills someone. Assuming the cycle can be repeated indefinitely, no one would ever die. Sure, it would be a never-ending clusterfuck of brutality, but that’s never stopped humanity in the past.”

  Lingk was silent for a long moment. Finally he said, “I need your help.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Monika’s at my church. I want you to take custody of her.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes. I’ve seen how you fix problems. We need to fix this now.”

  Frank reached across the desk—paperweights and pens falling to the floor—and grabbed the pastor by the throat. Lingk gasped, his face turning red.

  “No one,” Frank growled in his ear, “comes into my house and talks about that kinda shit. You understand?”

  When Lingk nodded, Frank released him, then sat back in this chair. “This is my sanctuary,” he said softly. “Those people in the living room are my life.”

  “I understand,” Lingk replied, rubbing his neck. “And I understand the situation you’re in. What I’m proposing is a mutually beneficial arrangement, allowing you to keep things under wraps for a while. The board doesn’t need to know Monika’s not a second-lifer. My account will make them happy, and I’ll use my influence to keep them off your back. We can work out a deal tomorrow that will put a large cash infusion in the firm. That will buy you some time to find a replacement, and I don’t care about the money.”

  “And what about the girl?”

  “What about her? She’s already dead in the eyes of the law. Ship her off to a prison in some third-world country for all I care. But we can’t let her walk the streets. No one can know her secret.”

  “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”

  “No,” Lingk said. “I never knew it would work like this, and I don’t like it. I will publically apologize for Thursday’s ‘outburst’ at Monday’s service, tell everyone I was under a lot of stress, and turn Glory’s Children Church back into an outreach program with a loose doctrine.”

  “Think they’ll let you keep your tax-exempt status?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Things have gone too far.”

  Frank was sure Sylvia would forgive him eventually for working on a Sunday, and he was equally certain this wasn’t something he could take care of in the morning.

  Although not everything the pastor said rang true, Frank bought what was important, and shuddered thinking of the damage Monika could do by tomorrow. She would cripple AdCorp, which wasn’t good for his family. And if Lingk was even half-right, she could turn the peaceful second-life arrangement violent in an instant, and that wasn’t good for anyone.

  “I need your help, Frank,” Lingk pleaded. “I’ll make it worth your while. You have my word.”

  “Your word?” Frank said with a humorless chuckle.

  “Please.”

  “Quit whining, I’ll do it. But I’m driving.”

  CHAPTER 20

  They watched the church through cracked, filthy windows in their tumbledown hotel room. And Eric listened while Monika explained what had happened to her. Listened, that was, until she reached the part about Julie Stewart. Then he bristled.


  “I didn’t know what I was doing,” she pleaded.

  “But you wanted her dead.”

  “Yes, but I was only a creature of instinct, Coop. A lesser creature.”

  “I understand,” he said. “Go on.”

  He didn’t completely understand, of course. How could he? But things had moved miles beyond reason. What he knew was he loved her. Always had, despite the cruel filter his mind had placed on the events of the accident that had taken her. It had been easier to hate, or at least blame, than to mourn. It had been the same way with his father. Minimize the dead, minimize the tragedy. But now he had her back, and he would do things differently this time, starting with giving her the unconditional love she deserved. So he paid attention to every unbelievable aspect of her tale, and when she finished, he asked, “Is that everything?” because he wanted to be sure.

  “Isn’t that enough?” she said with a crooked smile.

  “How could I ask for more? After all, you saved my life.”

  Her smile straightened.

  “So here’s what I think,” Eric said. “Glory can kill any living person, in theory, and become whole again, right?”

  “I guess.”

  “And she’s an invalid.”

  “I think that’s changing already.”

  “Sure, the way she spoke to you when you were leaving the church—well, here’s what I’m getting at. She could kill anyone, but it’s Lingk who really has to facilitate the whole thing. Put the gun in her hand, essentially assist in the murder.”

  “True.”

  “So I’ve been asking myself, who does Lingk hate most?”

  There was no hesitation in her answer. “Frank Allen.”

  “Exactly. I only worked with Lingk for a few months, but it didn’t take long to understand that he is incapable of handing power to anyone. No one has more minimized the pastor’s grasp on control recently than Frank. It’s not like Lingk is going to be worried about getting nailed for the murder, because by then he’ll have Glory back. And he probably thinks he can bring Frank back, too. Not that he wants to. But, you know, if things get sticky.”

  “I think you’re right,” she said. “And I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

  “This is kinda cool.”

  “Here we go.” Wearing a spirited sneer, she slugged him on the shoulder.

  “It’s like we’re partners on one of those old cop shows or something,” he said.

  She chuckled. “Yeah, we make a great team. Anyway, I think Lingk will make his move today.”

  “Not tomorrow?” he said, raising his eyebrows and nodding his chin toward the bed. He then put his arms around her waist. “I was kind of hoping that—”

  “Behave, Coop,” she said, pushing away from him playfully. “We have to keep watch. He could be back any moment.”

  “All right, I’m sorry.”

  “Look, I transformed overnight. I think he’s planning to get Glory back into her old skin by tomorrow night’s service. Then, I’m afraid, he’ll go public with everything. It will be his big moment of vindication. No way he’ll resist that temptation, regardless of what it costs the world. And we can’t let him do that. If people—worse yet, second-lifers—know The Curse works both ways—”

  “Jesus Christ,” Eric said.

  “But that’s only part of the problem,” she said.

  “You mean there’s more?”

  “I’ve been thinking about the magic.”

  “Do we have to worry about that right now?”

  “I think so, yes. Glory’s at the center of this. I’m sure of it. She believed Lingk could do anything for her, so she used him. I’m not judging her. They were only teenagers and both clearly had a lot of problems. But she used him nonetheless. Any other time she would just have been a dumb girl who believed a guy could move mountains for her. Dime a dozen. Except she’s the one dumb girl who actually found the magic man.”

  “Your point?”

  “He only did half the job.”

  “I don’t know. Do you think she wanted a real apocalypse?”

  “Yeah, I do. I just don’t think Lingk could bring himself to believe that’s what she really wanted. So his mind, his subconscious, whatever does the bidding for his loved ones, altered her wish. Cut it in half.”

  “You make him sound like some kind of genie.”

  “That’s how I’ve come to think of him. He doesn’t live in a lamp, and he isn’t damn near as charming as all the genies I’ve seen in movies, but isn’t that what he is?”

  “For crying out loud.”

  “Come up with a better comparison.”

  “I can’t and I don’t want to.” He took a deep breath, shook his head. “What do you think Glory wants now?”

  “I think she still wants the same thing.”

  “And how is she going to accomplish that?”

  “She’s going to ask the pastor for it.”

  “You mean to tell me—”

  “She has said two words to him in more than a decade, Coop. Guess what those two words were.”

  “Fuck you?”

  “Come on, I’m being serious.”

  “I don’t know, what did she say?”

  “Still time.”

  “So she’s telling him there’s still time to finish what he started. Seems pretty clear to me. She could have picked better words, but—”

  “It’s not that easy. Remember, I’ve been on the other side of second life. Trust me, words are tough. That said, her message is still pretty clear. But let’s assume you’re him. The girl you love more than anything, more than life itself, a girl you started a fucking religion for, says two words to you in the span of more than a decade. Still time. Now how do you interpret that?”

  “That there’s still time to be together.”

  “Bingo. Love is often lost in translation.”

  “That makes sense and it doesn’t. She talked to you this morning. If she was able to do that, then why not just tell him herself. Why, no offense, waste the words on you?”

  “I think her ability had something to do with my presence. That’s one of the reasons I need you here. You can’t let me get too close to Glory.”

  “All right, but what do you think she was trying to accomplish?”

  “I think she tried to make me feel sorry for her.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “Because I know too much, Coop. And she did throw me off the truth. At first I thought she’d just been holding out on him, giving him the silent treatment all those years. But that didn’t make any sense when I thought about it more. He would do anything she asked him to, and she would have talked to him. She’s dying to talk to him. Glory wanted me to see her as a victim.”

  “And that would…?”

  “Throw me off the scent of the real danger, which I’m starting to think is her. And I think she needs me.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Someone’s here,” she said.

  A car pulled into the lot and two men got out. She squinted through the dirty window. “The passenger is Lingk,” Monika said, “but I can’t tell who the other guy is.”

  “It’s Frank Allen,” Eric said.

  “You sure?”

  “Hell, yes. I’d know that swagger anywhere.”

  * * *

  Frank hadn’t been in the church for a minute before he knew he’d entered a trap. The chapel was cold and dark. On the stage sat a second-life girl with wires connected to her head. She was more decayed than any he’d ever seen. Not Monika, that much was clear, but who was she? He’d heard tell of the pastor’s odd studies on second-lifers, but he hadn’t expected a laboratory in the temple itself. That seemed unholy, even by the standards of a cult leader.

  “Where’s Monika?” he asked.

  Slinking behind Frank, Lingk didn’t answer right away. And when Frank felt the pressure against his back, he knew the score. Instinct told him to spin around and snatch the gun from the paltry man
, but thinking about Sylvia and Chelsea, he couldn’t take that chance. It sometimes took more strength not to pull a trigger in moments of stress, and the only thing worse than a lunatic with a gun was a lunatic with a gun who was under pressure. Frank forced himself calm.

  The barrel pushing deeper into Frank’s back, Lingk said, “Walk,” and Frank was forced past rows of pews, then up a short staircase. On the stage, the pastor stepped in front of his captive, a wild grin cracking his face. “Monika’s gone,” he said.

  Frank was immediately struck by a dark possibility. Had Lingk terminated Monika? Was this the beginning of the madness brought on by The Curse? Or was this just full-tilt insanity for its own sake? Either way, he was fucked.

  Lingk spun a metal chair around with his free hand, positioned it in front of the second-lifer. Pointing at it with his gun, he said, “Sit.” And that’s when Frank realized that the dead girl was more than an experiment. He saw it in the way the pastor kept glancing at her; that unmistakable look of crazy love. Frank hadn’t factored this into the equation before.

  “Glory,” Frank said, sitting.

  “Don’t say her name,” Lingk growled. “You aren’t fit to say her name.”

  Frank was silent as the pastor moved beside her. He gripped the gun in front of her at chest level, then raised her limp right hand by the wrist. Frank noticed her trigger finger already curled, most likely broken earlier by Lingk.

  “Think about what you’re doing,” Frank said.

  “You condescending son of a bitch,” Lingk said. “You think I haven’t thought this through?”

  “You can use anyone for this purpose, and I can help you get away with it. I’m an important man. My family will—”

  “Shut the fuck up. You are a very small man consumed by greed. You will not be missed.” Placing his trigger finger over Glory’s with what Frank could only rationalize as preternatural precision, the pastor held the dead digit in place for a moment before letting go. He continued gripping the handle of the gun, but with his finger no longer on the trigger, this was Frank’s last chance to act.