Chapter 21
Kill The Witch
“Okay everyone. Time to eat. The master chef conquers!" hollered Jeff to the others.
The rest of the crew stumbled out of their rooms while rubbing their eyes and grumbling about the noise, but intoxicated by the aroma.
Sal looked blurry-eyed at him and smarted off, "I remember the last time you cooked for me. You ended up hanging from a window ledge three stories up. Enough with the noise, will you!"
Alex didn't make a sound but pushed his way between Sal and Abigail while heading for the coffee pot and trying to get the first cup. He commented, "He does make a mean cup of coffee."
"It's more like syrup than coffee," replied Abigail while sitting down at the breakfast table and staring at a plate of country ham covered with grits, eggs, and Santa Claus gravy.
"No, it's not. Your coffee is just like weak tea. Anything would be syrup to you," shot Alex.
"You never complained before, old Gov," she responded and shook a finger at him.
Sal looked at all of them in bathrobes, except Abigail. "How come I never see you in a bathrobe in the morning? Afraid someone's not going to catch you at your best?" Alex spurted coffee from his mouth, gagging with the thought of the last time he ever saw her wear one.
She responded, "Not a word, Gov, not a single word. Sal, it's just a newly acquired habit of mind."
"Habit, that's a good word for a nun. Habit? She's just scared to death that she'll lose it again," laughed Alex.
"I told you not to say anything, you rat!" she exclaimed and punched him in his shoulder, then watched him trying not to spill his coffee in his other hand. He didn't. Nothing got in the way of his coffee.
"Okay, okay, we, I accidentally lost it one morning. I turned into an accidental exhibitionist. He didn't even turn away, you gawker!"
"Hey, give me a break. You didn't seem to mind at the time," he replied, still laughing.
"If I wasn't so hungry, I'd tear your crooked ears off!" she returned while laughing herself this time.
"You know, guys," said Jeff as he pointed at both of them, "If I wasn't so dumb about these kinds of things, I'd swear you two had a thing for each other. My parents used to spar like that all time. They were crazy about each other. Of course, they always hugged a little afterwards."
"We haven't evolved that far yet. I guess. Right, Gov?" she said, then winked at him.
"Not yet," he replied, winking back.
"I thought so," said Jeff and Sal together.
Alex and Abigail blushed and looked away from each other for a moment, then smiled slightly.
"Jeff, tell me how best to eat this stuff. Is there an art to it?" asked Sal, not knowing quite what to think about the grits.
"Sure there's an art to it. You take the eggs and cut them up letting the yokes bleed all over the plate, then cover the plate with pieces of biscuits. After that, pour the Santa Claus gravy and the grits on it and mix it all up in a pile, peppered and salted down to taste. Ymmm," he answered as he licked his lips and rubbed his stomach.
"Why is it called Santa Claus gravy?" asked Sal, the only non-southerner at the table.
"It's white, thick, and fluffy like Santa Claus' beard. Don't you know anything, Sal?" he answered.
"Okay, round-eyes, like I'm supposed to know all your Southern traditions all at once. I'm just lucky to know about American shopping habits, not the particular weird eating habits of American society—the Deep South."
"So would you like it better if you mixed it up with sushi?" replied Jeff sarcastically.
"Hey, look who's sparring, now. Do we have another team forming right before our eyes?" asked Alex, not aware of the Sal-Caleb connection like Abigail did from all their girl talk.
"Gov, why don't you pour me some of that black syrup for your sparring partner and stop messing with the hired help, okay?" He got a glimmer that he had said something wrong and mouthed "okay" without saying anything more.
"Abigail, we've been here for almost three weeks, and you two haven't said a word about what we're to do on this mission Caleb talked about. Isn't it about time you shared your secret with us?" she asked, her mouth full of Jeff's suggested mixed breakfast pile.
"Maybe, but not while you're eating. You have to leave in two days. We figure that it will take you at least ten hours to get to one of the biggest West Virginia trade communes. Let’s talk about it later, okay?"
"While we're eating? You make it sound like it will make us sick. How silly. What would be that bad? You're so funny," giggled Sal, then looked at Alex staring at her quietly.
Jeff was even quiet. He was never told the mission, only that Sal would be upset about it. He turned and started scrubbing a cooking pot and filling the dishwasher up with dirty dishes.
Sal was about finished with her food while just gobbling it down and said, "You're right, Jeff. That was yummy. Better than the first one."
Abigail sidetracked her for a moment. "Did I hear you say something about Jeff hanging from a window ledge."
"Oops, did I say that? Well, I just got confused one morning when the chef decided to wake me. I threw him out the window."
"Threw him out the window! That's a little violent," laughed Abigail.
"She killed two grown men with her karate hands just after that!" exclaimed Jeff.
"Jeff, that was self defense! You know that!" she shouted, defensively.
"No wonder Caleb picked you for this assignment. You're perfect," spouted Alex, then got kicked in the shins under the table by Abigail.
"Okay, enough is enough! What in the name of Zeus is this assignment about? Stop with all this secrecy! Tell me now!" demanded Sal while starting to lose her temper.
Jeff interrupted, "Caleb said you wouldn't like it, Sal. I don't know what it is, but you might not like the answer."
"Well, if we're to leave for West Virginia in two days, wouldn't it be a good idea to tell us what we're going to do?"
Jeff agreed, "She does have a point. When were you planning on telling us?"
"The day before you left," answered Abigail, then got up and walked out of the room. She walked into Nicodemus' room and let him loose. "I hope you're as good at comfort as at getting people saved. I think Sal is going to need some help."
Nicodemus jumped around at the attention while Abigail avoided touching him, and he ran into the kitchen when he smelled all the food, then yelped for some just before Jeff put down a large bowl of leftovers. Abigail went into the supply room, picked up the Colt 45, and put it under her loose-fitting shirt. She picked up the two bullets and put them in her jeans pocket. She marched into the kitchen with such deliberateness that she caught everyone's attention, including Nicodemus. He stopped eating when she entered and stood before her growling. He seemed to know exactly what she was going to do and that it was a day early.
Sal scolded him, "Nikki, stop that. Go eat your food. So why are you looking so serious all of a sudden?" asked Sal.
Abigail sat down, pulled her chair close to Alex's, and put her arm through his in a surprising show of deliberate affection. It was more for moral support. With her other hand, she pulled out the heavy Colt and placed it in front of Sal.
"It's not loaded," announced Abigail.
"Cool, can I handle it?" asked Jeff.
"No. It's for Sal. Here are two bullets. That's all they gave us."
"I hate guns. Why did you give it to me? Give it to Mr. Academy Macho Automated Fire." she replied while recoiling from it and pushing it away from her with her dirty fork and pointing at Jeff.
"Doesn't work that way," replied Abigail coldly.
"What doesn't work that way?" asked Sal still confused.
"It's yours. You're going to take it, and you're going to murder the President's wife, Cassidy. I don't know what the second bullet is for."
"Oh brother!" said Jeff loudly.
Sal slowly got up from the table and ran to her bathroom while heaving her breakfast into the toi
let for over five minutes, then ran to her room. Everyone heard her crying, and it sounded like she was throwing a fit, as if she was kicking and thrashing the bed with her legs and arms.
"Wow," said Jeff. "That's heavy!"
Alex asked, "What do you think she'll do? Hadn't you ought to explain to her about the babies?"
"Later, let's let her get it out of her system first. It has to be her decision. We really can't interfere."
"I want you to start packing. There are certain things you'll need. We have them in the supply room. I don't want you to take that M16. You'll take just what you're supposed to take and nothing more. We are all on orders here. Do you understand?" commanded Abigail.
Jeff whined but nodded "yes," then protested, "Why does Sal have to kill that 'witch' you called her. Why can't I do it? I'd do it in a flapjack minute."
"I don't know, Jeff," interrupted Alex, "You're both in it together, anyway. She just gets dibs on the first shot."
"I'm ready. What else do you know about Cassidy?" asked Jeff while hoping there was more logical reasons why she should die.
"She's not human. Only half of her is. She's part dark angel and part human."
"That has to make a difference. I'll kill the human side, and she can kill the dark angel side; two bullets, right?" Jeff proclaimed loudly.
Sal interrupted, "I'm not going. I'm not going to kill anyone. Forget orders," she said defiantly as she walked into the kitchen and sat down again.
"Tell her about the babies. Tell her!" ordered Alex.
"What babies? What's he talking about?" she asked angrily.
Abigail fired her baby bullet, "The witch is going to nuke all of the communes, shortly. You've been at Woodbury. That’s a lot of newborns. We figure that millions of babies will die."
Sal got up and ran to her bathroom again, dry heaving this time, then came walking back despondently. She sat down without a word, and Nikki nudged her leg to let him put his head in her lap. When she did, she felt better for a minute.
"Why, me? Why us? What makes us anymore capable to get to Cassidy than anyone else? I don't understand. I don't understand at all," she whined pathetically.
"I don't know, Sal. I figured it was because you both look so unlikely—two teenagers and a dog. Who would think?" remarked Alex pragmatically.
"And a letter from Pendwight's niece," interjected Abigail.
"When did that come about?" asked Alex.
"Just now. I just thought about it. It's the perfect introduction. They'll have to let them in close. He's always with her anyway. I don't want to think what else he's up to. He's in deep, and it bothers me too much. Let's just leave it at that."
"Why were you two going to tell us the day before instead of now?" asked Jeff.
"I think that makes common sense. Sal won't be sleeping very well the next two days. Now, she'll start out tired. Otherwise, she'd only lose one day," answered Alex.
"I'm not going to murder anyone, not even for Caleb. I'll do it for the Lord, and my heart is sick with this, but I feel Him giving me peace about it that is beyond me. I'll do it for Him. I'll do it for the babies. Other than that, I'd be telling Caleb to go to hell in a hand basket," she replied defiantly again.
"That's exactly what Caleb wanted. He didn't want you to do it for him. He wanted you to make a decision just like you did," Abigail replied while patting Sal's hand across the table.
"I guess I did make a decision? But you're wrong. I'm not losing sleep about it. I really believe God wants this done. When and if I pull the trigger, I'll aim at what Jeff called the dark angel side. I've never handled a gun in my life. Does anyone have any suggestions?"
They all answered together, "Point and pull the trigger!"
"Oh, okay. That easy, huh? Jeff can tell you. If that doesn't work, I can just throw her out a window," she giggled a little while easing the tension they all felt. "Jeff, sweetie, can you make me some more breakfast. I'm terribly hungry," she asked, then seductively ran her hand up his near arm.
"Don't do that, Sal. I have enough problems keeping my distance without you encouraging me," he replied, then moved to the stove to cook up another batch. Nikki moved towards his food growling protectively.
"Don't worry, Nikki. Jeff is fixing me up some more," she laughed as she pointed at Nikki.
Two Days Later
The Hummer was packed, and instead of the motorcycle in the back seat, they had it strapped to the back bumper for more room. Abigail was so upset at their leaving that she had her hugs below and let Alex handle it from there. Sal was like an old girlfriend to Abigail, now. They had spent the time confiding in each other all their special secrets, bonding them way beyond just friends. They were each other's cheerleaders for the future. Sal now knew about Abigail's fondness for Alex, and even though Abigail already knew some of how Sal felt about Caleb, she felt her passion for him was like a wild flame. Abigail also began to hunger to become a believer, especially from repeatedly hearing Sal's salvation story. It was beginning to keep her awake at night. She found herself praying for Sal and Jeff. She only wished her prayers counted more. She knew the only way that would happen would be if she turned her life over to God 100 percent.
Sal and Jeff had their maps to West Virginia with special notes on places not to go. They also had every commune marked with additional notations, like which types of artisan work and products they were known for. When Jeff asked about the jeans, he was just told they would need them. He figured it must be because the trade commune he was going to was a clothing commune of some kind. They had a hundred pair of them wrapped tightly in four rolls stuffed in the wide back seat. Jeff jumped into the driver's seat and started the engine. Alex started to wave goodbye, and then stopped them.
"Wait a minute. Did you give me that M16, yet?" he asked.
Sal looked into the glove compartment and found two ammunition clips, "Jeff," she said slowly, "where's the gun?"
"Oh, guys! You can't be serious. You're only giving us a Colt with two bullets with what's going on out there. Please, give me a break," he whined.
"You play by God's rules around here, Jeff. Christian or not a Christian," he replied in a fatherly tone.
Sal got a hold of the barrel of it, stuffed under all the jeans, and pulled it out, then handed it to Alex. Jeff pounded the steering wheel in frustration.
"You guys are so hard and stupid," then he fondled the hunting knife strapped under his pant leg with some comfort.
"Get out of the Hummer, Jeff," commanded Sal. "I'm driving!"
"No way. A guy has to have some fun. Give me a break!" he whined louder this time but got out anyway.
As Sal got in, Nikki jumped in the front seat beside her. Jeff ordered Nikki in the back, and he growled at him bearing his teeth.
"Man, oh man! This is not starting out to be a good day at all," and jumped into the back seat while moving supplies around just to find a place to sit.
"Grumpy, isn't he?" announced Sal in a Steve Erwin accent, then laughed and watched him sitting in the back seat with his hands folded across his chest, not saying a word. She thought he might be holding his breath. "Poor boy," she thought, then laughed out-loud.
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