The Redeemed

by Jonas Saul

  “Sarah?” Parkman said. “What are we doing here? What’s the next move? Anything from Vivian?”

  “Yes.” She looked away from the church. Hirst and his wife stood side by side. With Aaron next to her, she had everyone’s attention. “You’re too close to the church,” she said to Hirst.

  Parkman and Hirst looked at the building, then back to Sarah.

  “How’s that?” Hirst asked, his face impassive, pensive.

  “When it blows, all these cars will be destroyed. They’re in the debris field and anyone this close will probably die.”

  Janice gasped while Parkman moved closer. “What are you talking about? He has explosives?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “What does that mean?” Hirst asked. “You can’t say shit like that without backing it up. As far as you know isn’t good enough.”

  “Actually, it is good enough. Because when the place blows and people die, I can at least say that I warned you.”

  “Say I move everyone back and start emptying the church and nothing blows up, what then? You wanna handle the press conference and explain your lack of reasoning?”

  “Sure. I’ll deal with the press. But where’s this hostility coming from? I brought Janice back, didn’t I? You can start trusting me now. Yesterday, in the hotel, you said you wouldn’t ever doubt me again.”

  “Sure, I can trust you, but do they?” He pointed at the throng of people making their way inside the church. “Do you realize the kind of debacle it would create to evacuate the church now. It would be nearly impossible.”

  “Just make the call. Trust me. Do it now.”

  “Doesn’t happen that way.” Hirst turned to Parkman for support. “Tell her it doesn’t happen that way.”

  “Sarah?” Parkman touched her arm. “What’s going on? What’s Vivian telling you?”

  “Vivian isn’t sure. Something’s riding on it.”

  Hirst stepped in her space. “I can’t order an evacuation on ‘Vivian isn’t sure.’ You have no idea how bad that would look?”

  “Sarah, what are you not telling us?” Aaron narrowed his eyes and frowned.

  “I don’t know,” she said, leaning into his arms. Speaking only loud enough for Aaron and Parkman to hear as a couple of police cars drove by, she said, “Vivian’s got a new way of talking to me. Handwritten notes are becoming a thing of the past. Ever since I got shot in the head, she’s been in there, whispering, like she’s trapped in a deep part of my consciousness. It’s like I have two brains and mine is the dominant one.” She turned to Hirst who was talking to his wife. “Hey, Hirst, to be safe, just order everyone out of the church. Just get as many people clear as possible. The people outside can take shelter if the building blows.”

  “Can’t do that,” Hirst said. “The church is crawling with cops. Logistical nightmare. Unless you have absolute proof.”

  “Then I’ll do it,” Parkman said as he started away.

  “I’ll join him,” Aaron added.

  “Wait!” Hirst called after them, but neither one turned back.

  “Aaron!” Sarah called.

  Aaron stopped but Parkman kept going. She waved him back. Hesitantly, he returned to her side.

  “What is it?” he asked. “You want everyone out. I can help with that.”

  “I know. But I need you here.”

  “For what?”

  “To help me in one minute.”

  “To do what?” he whispered, close to her ear.

  “Follow my lead.”

  He gave her room, nodded slightly and waited for her to do whatever she had in mind.

  It had to be her going into the church. That was the only way. But would a church full of grieving parishioners and police officers listen to a wounded girl on a crutch?

  Detective Hirst was now on a police radio telling someone to let Parkman in, but to stay in the church. “Don’t listen to Parkman,” Hirst said. “Do not evacuate the church. Keep everyone looking for Father Adams. Make sure we don’t miss the bastard.”

  The boy’s phone rang in her pocket. Sarah pulled it out. Hirst was so close he bumped into her and looked down at the phone in her hand.

  “Who’s Cane Father?” Hirst asked.

  “It’s Father Adams. I found this phone on the boy holding Janice.”

  Hirst frowned, knowing he hadn’t heard the whole story yet. “Why does it say Cane Father?”

  “A religious version of Sugar Daddy? Who knows.”

  “Hold on. Don’t answer right away. Let me get my guys to set up a trace—”

  Sarah clicked the answer button before he could finish. As if they were old pals, she said, “Hello there. Long time.”

  “I see you,” Adams said.

  “How nice. Do I look pretty? Are you coveting me? Which reminds me, how many commandments have you broken this week?”

  “I don’t adhere to that particular ideology. The church is a business. That’s why I’m here. To make money.”

  “Tell it to someone who will listen to the rantings of a lunatic. I ain’t got the time to play games.” Hirst crossed his arms in front of her, evidently pissed that she didn’t wait. She looked away from him. “Where are you, Adams? Come on. Give it up. Come dance with me.”

  “You will dance soon enough. In a lake of fire, demon. In the meantime, come join us inside. Church is in session.”

  “Sounds like a delightful invitation. But I’m feeling kinda woozy. I think I’ll pass.”

  “If you don’t enter the church to hear the eulogy for my brother, I will begin executing pedestrians and police officers.”

  “Oh, really? And how are you going to do that?”

  “I’ve got snipers set up around the street. On cue, I push a button and they have orders to shoot. Orders to kill.”

  “Aren’t you a religious man?”

  “Absolutely. But so was Jim Jones in his own way. And how about Hitler? Wasn’t he a great artist? He even made Time’s Man of the Year in 1938. How about the President of the United States? Isn’t he a man of religion? Yet he has snipers in his employ.”

  Sarah grabbed Hirst’s attention and pointed skyward at the various buildings surrounding them. She covered the mouthpiece and whispered, “Snipers.” Then she shrugged as if to say she wasn’t sure if Adams was bluffing.

  “Religion doesn’t come into it,” Adams continued. “We are all human and humans kill each other. We’re at the top of the food chain. Nothing hunts us except ourselves. If we didn’t have world wars, we’d have been overpopulated decades ago. Humans are unique that they have their own brand of population control, but that’s another topic entirely.” He paused. Sarah waited. “If you don’t start for the church within one minute, I will execute a woman first. Then I will order someone killed every minute you remain outside. Start walking now.”

  The line went dead.

  She glanced up at the church’s spires, then the bell tower.

  “What did he say?” Hirst asked, his face glistening with sweat.

  “I’ve got one minute.” She checked the time on the phone. “In fifteen minutes it’ll be four in the afternoon.”

  “What does the time have to do with anything?” Hirst nearly shouted, his confusion fueled by anger.

  “At four, the church will explode.” She met the detective’s eyes. “At least that’s what I think. That’s why he wanted all of us here. This isn’t about the Catholics like I previously thought.”

  “What’s it all about, then?”

  Sarah checked the time. Forty seconds had passed. If Adams wasn’t bluffing, someone would die in twenty seconds. She had to get inside the church, if only to save lives on the outside. But she needed the church to be evacuated as fast as possible in a way that would limit Adams from seeing it.

  “Aaron!” she called.

  Now that she had his full attention, she withdrew the gun she had collected off the boy who had guarded Janice, wrapped an arm around Hirst’s neck, and set the tip of the weap
on against his throat. The crutch fell harmlessly to the cement. His hands came up and latched onto her forearm.

  “You’re going to be my escort into the church. Don’t try me. You’ve heard how I feel about cops. The rumors are true.” She set her lips up against his ear. “I want to kill you,” she whispered. “Believe me.”

  Aaron grabbed her crutch and used it to fend off the officers who stepped in too close. A couple of them withdrew their firearms.

  “Set the gun down!” the closest one shouted.

  “Not a chance,” Sarah yelled back. “Shoot me and you shoot Detective Hirst.” She spun her prisoner around to face the cop who had yelled at her. “There is a sniper above us. If I don’t get a free pass into that church right now, people will die. Uh oh, you made me wait too long—”

  What sounded like a rifle crackled from above. Someone screamed. Sarah kept her eyes on the officer aiming his gun at her, but he looked in the direction of the scream.

  Aaron moved between Sarah and the cop. “See? She wasn’t bluffing. One down.”

  “And every minute I stand here, another person will be shot.”

  The cop lowered his weapon. “Let her be,” he shouted for the benefit of his colleagues around him. “Give her a free pass.”

  Sarah backed up. Then she turned toward the church and forced Hirst to start walking.

  “You’ll never be able to walk away from this,” Hirst said.

  “Shut the fuck up!” Sarah shouted in his ear.

  “Canadians are nice. They didn’t lock you up for what you did to that cop. But down here, you’ll go away for a long time for this. Kidnapping a cop and executing a civilian to make a point. Man, you’re looking at minimum twenty years and—”

  She smashed the gun into the side of his head. “When I say shut up, I’m not talking to myself. Another word out of you and I’ll shoot you in the foot. Aaron will drag you into the church. Now fuck off and keep your ramblings to yourself. I’m trying to save your life and here I thought I could trust you.”

  As if Hirst was her large football and Aaron her blocker running interference ahead, the river of people spread apart allowing them a clear path to the front doors of the church. At the steps, Sarah leaned on Hirst’s shoulders to ascend them without the crutch, but she kept the gun pressed firmly against his neck. At the large wooden doors, Aaron stopped and got behind her.

  The rifle crackled again.

  “Shit,” Sarah whispered. “I’m coming!” she yelled over her shoulder.

  They entered the church. People lingered everywhere. A line led to the coffin at the front where grieving parishioners were leaving flowers and saying a few last words. Others filled the pews. No one seemed to have noticed the gun going off outside moments before.

  Parkman was talking to three uniformed officers by a small office door, gesturing wildly at different points within the church.

  As Sarah glanced his way, Parkman turned to look at them, his eyes widening.

  “We have a huge problem, Hirst,” Sarah said. He hadn’t let go of her forearm. She hadn’t dropped the gun from poking his neck yet either. “In ten minutes, whoever is still in this church, will die.”

  “Bullshit. You can’t know that unless you’re in on it.”

  “Bullshit. You called me to L.A. because you know who I am and what I can do.” She forced him to turn back toward the doors. “Look above the doors on the wall.”

  A black box the size of a small briefcase was affixed to the stone wall. A red dot blinked on the bottom of the case.

  “Father Adams would have unfettered access to this church at all times, even when it was empty. He planted black boxes everywhere. My guess is they’re on a timer and they’re set to explode at four this afternoon.”

  She turned to look outside. The police had pushed people back farther and were tightening the area they had cordoned off. No one walked the street directly in front of the church and the rifle hadn’t gone off again.

  “Over here,” Aaron said. He gestured at the pews beside him three rows up. “Another black case right here.”

  “You see, Hirst. This was the only way to get you in here. Will you help me now?”

  Hirst’s head swiveled from the black case to Parkman, then to Aaron.

  “Aaron, relieve him of his weapon,” Sarah said.

  “No need,” Hirst spoke fast. “I’ll help. But if these aren’t bombs and you have a cell phone that talks directly to Adams and you think this isn’t about religion anymore and so on and such shit, when were you planning on letting us know? We’re the fucking investigators.”

  “Ask your wife about the cell phone and we’ll talk all you want once this is over. Be cool. I’m going to release your neck. No stupid stuff because if I perceive you as a threat, I will shoot you. And I won’t shoot to wound, I shoot to kill. You’re a cop. You understand that.” His hands came away from her forearm. She lowered her arm and hopped off him. “Aaron, my crutch.”

  He swung it over and slipped it under her armpit. Then he stood extra close to Hirst. Aaron would stop any kind of offense Hirst had in mind. Her heart swelled at the notion.

  Instead, Hirst clapped his hands loudly.

  “Can I get everyone’s attention?”

  “Back door,” Sarah said. “Adams can see the front. Get them moving out the back.”

  “I need everyone to leave the building as quickly as possible. This is an evacuation. We don’t have time to explain. Right now, everyone has to leave the church for their own personal safety. Come on,” he clapped again. “Everyone up and out. All officers, help guide the people out the back as the front is cut off now.”

  Some mumbled and some complained, but the people began to shuffle their feet and start moving, although it was going too slow.

  Sarah checked the time. 3:54 p.m.

  “Six minutes to detonation. Do this faster, Hirst. You don’t want anyone inside this building in five minutes.”

  Parkman came up beside her. “Is that what finally made him listen? A gun to the throat?”

  “A girl has to do what a girl has to do to get a man to listen. Keep calm and act accordingly, Parkman. You don’t want me to pull a gun on you.”

  “Been there, done that. Not fun.”

  “And here’s where I redeem myself.”

  “You already have,” he said.

  “You might think so, but I don’t. What happens next is redemption. For me, for how the police feel about me, you, Aaron, everything. I am involved in saving all of these people’s lives. It’ll mean something after this.”

  “Sarah, this redemption thing isn’t necessary.”

  She checked the clock. 3:56 p.m.

  Over half of the church had been cleared. The last of the people were working their way toward the back, but they were still leaving too slowly. Firing a weapon off in the church might get them moving faster but it might also cause a stampede and people could get hurt.

  “Come on, Hirst,” she shouted at him. “Faster.”

  Hirst yelled for everyone to keep going but to speed it up.

  There was no sign of Father Adams yet. The phone remained quiet. Everyone he wanted in the church was checked off and present. All he had to do was wait for the bombs to detonate and he was in the clear. Killing all of them would muddy the waters of the investigation for a very long time.

  “Okay, guys, time to go. We can leave through these doors.”

  Aaron stepped forward and Parkman joined him. Once they were through the double doors at the front of the church, a voice boomed behind them on a loud speaker.

  “I thank you all for coming,” the metallic voice of Father Adams said. “My brother was a good man who was led astray.”

  Aaron and Parkman turned around and looked like they were going to come back inside. Balancing on one foot, Sarah grabbed both doors and pulled, slamming them shut before either man could sneak a hand inside and stop their forward motion.

  Aaron yelled from the other side of the doors a
s something banged into them, jolting Sarah backwards. Quickly, before she lost her ability to keep them out, she dropped a thick wooden bolt down, securing the two doors together. Something rammed into them again, but all they did was budge slightly. There was no way Aaron was getting back in unless Sarah allowed him to.

  “Sarah, you don’t have to do this!” Parkman yelled.

  Sarah set her mouth to the crack between the wooden doors. “It’s the only way. I’m seeking redemption. Now I’ve saved your life. I’ve saved Aaron’s life. And the countless lives of the people leaving through the back, not to mention the lives of all the police officers just trying to get through each and every day. So don’t fuck this up for me. Step away from the doors. You saw the bomb above them. It’ll go off in about a minute. You do not want to be this close when it does. Go away boys and remember, I love you both.”