“What about murder? Doesn’t the Bible say that’s wrong?” Michael didn’t remember a whole lot from his Sunday School days, but he was pretty sure ‘Thou shalt not kill’ was one of the Ten Commandments.
“It isn’t murder if it’s God’s will,” Chastity replied.
You’re insane, Michael thought. But he held his tongue, hoping that if he cooperated, he might figure out a way to reason with her.
“So what do you need me to do in order for you to save me?”
Chastity smiled. For a moment Michael felt a sense of relief. If this girl wanted to help him, then by all means, he was going to let her think she was. Especially if he could avoid the destruction part.
“First, you must confess your sin, repent, and ask God’s forgiveness. In doing so, you will renounce Satan and all he stands for.”
Confess, repent, renounce. Easier said than done. What was he supposed to confess? Every bad thing he’d ever done in his life? That would take a while. And was she expecting formality? Was there an incantation or poem he needed to recite?
Hoping he wasn’t about to make a mistake, he looked up at Chastity.
“Will you help me?”
Chastity frowned.
Mistake.
“A truly repentant heart shouldn’t need help,” she told him. His mind scrambled for a way out of the hole he’d inadvertently begun to dig for himself.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I’m sorry for everything. For lying, for being a coward. For not helping people when I should have. I’m sorry I put myself first. And I hope God forgives me. Please, please forgive me.” Chastity was still frowning.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
She must be referring to something specific. Michael thought back to earlier that morning.
“I’m sorry for the pain I caused Mr. Ford,” he said. Chastity sighed.
“Unless you confess all your sin, I can’t help you.”
Michael was nearing the end of his rope. What other sin could he possibly have committed? He hadn’t done anything! Meanwhile, Chastity was growing more impatient by the second. Michael hoped that honesty might be enough to save him, but he doubted it.
“I’m sorry, Chastity,” he finally told her. “But I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then you leave me no choice,” she replied solemnly. Then, she rose to her feet and walked back to her companion, who watched silently with remorseful eyes as she bent down, took something in her hand, and turned back to face Michael.
“No choice about what?” His heart was beating so fast, he could barely form the words. Any pity that had once existed in Chastity’s eyes had vanished and had been replaced by a cold, bitter passion.
“Leviticus, chapter twenty, verse twenty-seven. ‘Now a man or a woman who is a medium or who consults the spirits of the dead shall surely be put to death. They shall be stoned with stones, and their blood shall be upon their own heads.’”
Chapter 27
Though he’d spent his whole life staring into the faces of the dead, Michael realized he’d never once been confronted by the prospect of his own demise. Now he knew what all those countless souls had felt seconds before death had claimed them. Silently, he cursed himself for never taking the time to consider all they’d been through.
Up until that point, his entire existence seemed to have revolved around death, but he’d never stopped to think about what death would be like. Would it come quickly for him or would he be left to suffer for a few hours before his heart gave out? Would there be a flash of light? Or would it be like going under anesthesia? You close your eyes one second, then the next wake up in an entirely different place? He should have spent more time talking with Kate about her brush with death, though at the time, he’d felt so guilty for how he would have treated her had he known she was dead that he hadn’t wanted to discuss it.
Michael had always thought that he wouldn’t fear death. He’d been wrong. The idea of death didn’t bother him. The act of dying, however, was a whole different story. It didn’t matter that death had never been a mystery to him. He was just as scared of it as any other person would be.
As Chastity posed herself in what vaguely resembled a pitcher’s stance, a million thoughts raced through Michael’s mind at once.
Stop her! Try to stop her!
What made her this way?
Is there any way I’ll survive this?
Will I become a ghost?
What will happen to my mother?
The thought of his mother mourning for yet another son was more than Michael could bear. He felt hot tears sliding down his face and he stared up Chastity with pleading eyes.
“Chastity... Please... You don’t have to do this.”
She didn’t seem to hear him. Or if she did, she ignored him. With a self-satisfied smile on her lips, she raised her arm to cast the first stone. Then, in one swift motion, she threw.
The stone, about the size of a golf ball, hit Michael’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. While he struggled to catch his breath, another stone struck his shoulder. Both would surely leave bruises, but Chastity’s arm, thankfully, was not as strong as it could have been. She threw another stone that missed him altogether. With a slight frown, she turned to her accomplice.
“Beau, help me,” she told him.
No.
Michael could only watch in horror as the strong, sturdy man reached down, picked up a fist-sized rock, and prepared to send it hurtling his way. Too terrified to speak, he shook his head.
No use. Less than a second later, the stone struck his collarbone with a sickening CRACK. Blinded by pain, he cried out and doubled over as far as he could with his arms tied behind the wooden pillar.
“There, there,” Chastity called out to him in a soothing voice. “I know it hurts, but I promise, it will be over real soon.”
Yes, please. Please be over. Death had to be nothing compared to this misery. Brink seemed happy enough, right? Maybe being dead wouldn’t be so bad. No illness, no broken bones...
No Kate.
If he died tonight, what would happen to her? He knew they’d agreed that she needed time to mourn for Trevor, but he’d sort of thought, or at least hoped, that eventually, they would be able to pick up where they’d left off.
It didn’t look like that would be happening. Still grimacing from the pain of his broken clavicle, he gritted his teeth and looked up at Beau, who was preparing to pitch another stone. Unable to speak and too weak to resist, Michael closed his eyes and waited for the next agonizing blow.
It didn’t come. No pain, no impact, not even pressure. Michael began to wonder if Beau had even thrown the rock when Chastity’s confused and anxious voice ordered, “Again!” This time, Michael heard the stone flying through the air, but again, it missed him.
Curious, Michael opened his eyes. He couldn’t see Chastity or her companion. Instead, he found himself staring into a wall of billowy white.
Wait, did I die?!
Alarmed, he tried to account for the last few seconds. His hands were still bound. Searing pain still radiated from his broken collarbone. He was definitely still alive.
Then what was he looking at? Straining against the pain between his shoulder and neck, he lifted his head up. The woman standing in front of him, dressed all in white, turned and looked at him with hard, dark eyes. Michael felt his jaw drop.
“Grace?” he whispered.
She didn’t say anything. She just sneered at him and whipped her head back around to stare down Chastity. Michael watched, awestruck, as Grace lifted her lace covered arms out in front of her, then, in the blink of an eye, thrust her left arm out to the side. As she did, the stone Beau had just thrown altered its course midair and flew off to the side, just like a bad curveball caught in the wind. Grace Bledsoe was protecting him.
Why?
An exasperated growl from Chastity answered his question. Of course. Grace and Daniel were the adu
lterers she’d “saved.” Grace may not have been fond of Michael, or anyone for that matter, but she wasn’t about to see another life end at the hands of the woman who’d murdered her.
“What is the matter with you?” Chastity demanded. “Throw straight!”
“I’m trying!” Beau told her.
“You’re not trying hard enough.”
Chastity shifted to the right and into Michael’s line of vision. He watched as she wound her arm up and threw yet another stone. Again, Grace raised her arm and the stone deflected to the side.
Michael would have been thankful for his ghost guardian were it not for the fact that Chastity was growing more frustrated by the second. He’d learned enough as a psychology minor to know that provoking the criminally insane was never a good idea.
Sure enough, after yet another failed attempt, something snapped and Chastity began hurtling stones like a mad woman. Beau followed suit. Their attack was so vicious that for a moment, it seemed the stones were literally falling from the sky. But thanks to Grace, none of them reached Michael.
“Enough!” Chastity finally hissed. “This isn’t working.”
For a split second, Michael thought she was giving up.
Please, just go away. Leave me here. Eventually, someone will notice that I’m missing and come looking for me.
No such luck. Instead of gathering up her stuff and walking away, Chastity dug around in her purse until she found what she was looking for. Then, she dropped the purse and held her hand out at arm’s length. The sleek silver gun in her hand reflected the pale light of the crescent moon. Grace turned and looked at Michael. Her mournful brown eyes told him what he already knew.
I can’t help you.
Grace was strong, stronger than most spirits Michael had ever met (at the moment, he could think of only one exception), but no ghost, no matter how powerful, could stand in the way of a bullet. Michael was dead as soon as Chastity decided to pull the trigger. Michael simply nodded and whispered, “Thank you.” In the blink of an eye, Grace vanished.
This was it, then. He almost wished Grace hadn’t come. It would have been better to get death over with then to have it taunt him with false hope. With the gun pointed straight at Michael’s head, Chastity approached him.
“Don’t want to miss,” she explained. “Beau, cut him loose.”
“Cut me loose?” Michael asked.
“Well, it’d be pretty difficult for you to shoot yourself with your hands tied behind your back, now wouldn’t it?” So that was her new plan. Chastity was setting the scene for another suicide. Suddenly, every shred of fear, pain, and resignation evaporated and was replaced by a rage unlike Michael had ever known. To be murdered was one thing. A terrible, horrible, awful thing that he would never wish upon anyone. But he would rather die a slow, miserable death at the hands of someone else than have his mother believe for one second that both her sons had taken their own lives.
“No!” he yelled and, summoning every ounce of strength he possessed, fought against his bonds. Chastity knelt down next to him and smiled.
“Don’t worry, Michael. Soon, you too will be a member of God’s Holy Court.”
“What about the bruises? My collarbone? That’ll look suspicious. They’ll know they were there before I died. There’ll be an investigation.”
“They could have been self-inflicted. Perhaps you tripped.”
Michael glared at her with hard eyes. “No one will believe it. Kate, Luke, my mother... They’ll know I didn’t kill myself. I had no reason to.”
“There, there, don’t get upset. A lot of people take their lives unexpectedly. But in your case, I’d say you did have a reason. Didn’t you break up with Katherine tonight?” Chastity, asked, rising to her feet. Michael’s face fell as Beau knelt down behind him to cut the plastic wires that bound him.
“How did you know...?” Of course. She’d been listening. She’d been following him all day. How else would she have known where to find him?
“I know she’ll be sad. I think she really liked you. But the Lord has someone special picked out for her. Soon, she’ll forget she ever had you.”
And then, like an answer to a prayer, a new voice echoed across the empty field. “Don’t be so sure!”
~*~
There was absolutely nothing surprising about the setting Chastity had selected for Michael’s execution or redemption or whatever the hell Cannon had warned them his daughter might be doing. Of course, the pastor didn’t know for sure. He’d been hoping and praying that the mysterious deaths that seemed to follow him were just coincidences. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a whole lot of room in his belief system for mere chances of fate.
He’d been right.
Following his best guesses, Kate and Luke found themselves in an open field, not far at all from the bridal barn where Grace Bledsoe had been found stabbed to death. They’d abandoned the car once the grass started getting thick and continued on foot through the meadow until they’d heard Chastity’s voice.
She was standing over Michael, who sat at the base of a tall wooden cross, and pointing a gun at his left temple. Kate didn’t notice the man behind Michael until he stood, startled by their sudden appearance. Kate locked eyes with Michael for only a brief moment before Luke addressed Chastity.
“Chastity, drop the gun.”
“Why?” Chastity asked, swinging the gun around so that it was pointed at Luke’s heart. Kate took an automatic step backward, as though half a foot of distance would save her from a gunshot. Luke stood his ground, but he held his hands up and tried to reason with her.
“Look, I’m unarmed. You don’t have to shoot,” he told her. “Please, just put the gun down. Let’s talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I am a servant of the Lord. I have been sent to do His work.”
“Hate to break it to you Chas, but I’m pretty sure that killing people isn’t part of the job description.”
“I don’t kill people. I help them.”
“And how is putting a bullet through a guy’s head helping him?”
“A demon has taken root inside his mortal body. It communicates with the dead through him. The only way for Michael to be free is to separate his soul from his defective body.”
“That’s why you want to kill him? Because he talks to ghosts? I talk to ghosts too. Hell, I go looking for them. Why didn’t you come after me?”
“Yours is not a gift of the devil,” Chastity answered, as though that cleared everything up.
“How did you find out?” Kate asked.
“My father told me after you left.”
“Then how did you follow us? We should have been long gone by the time he talked to you.”
“I didn’t need to follow you. You gave me all the information I needed when you told me your full name,” she told Kate. “Beau is a computer genius. He was able to track down your personal information in less than a second, and as a result, Michael’s.” Kate turned her eyes on the bulky guy standing behind Michael. His eyes were fixed on a spot on the ground. Almost like he felt guilty...
“What about you? Why are you doing this?” Kate asked Beau.
“He’s doing this because it is God’s will, and the only way to vanquish his past sin from his life,” Chastity answered for him.
“Oh. I thought only Jesus could do that.” The words were out of Kate’s mouth before she could stop them. Chastity narrowed her eyes.
“You are not a true Child of God, so how can you be expected to understand His ways?”
You know what, bitch? You go ahead and think that. Chastity could say whatever she wanted. All that mattered was getting Michael, Luke, and herself out of that field alive. Luke was on the same page.
“So how are we going to do this, Chas? Are you going to let us take our friend home or are we going to have to fight you for him?”
Oh, such a bad idea. Why, why, why had he said the word, “fight?” They weren’t supposed to fight, especially wit
h a crazy lady wielding a gun. Hell, they weren’t even supposed to be out there in the first place. Cannon had advised them to wait for the police, but neither was willing to do that; a decision that Kate was beginning to sorely regret.
“My name is Chastity. And you will not be taking him.”
“Well, in that case, I guess I have no choice.” Luke pulled out his iPhone, pretended to punch something in, and held it up to his ear.
Chastity narrowed her eyes. “Who are you calling?”
“The police,” Luke replied casually. Of course, it was all a bluff. If Pastor Cannon was to be believed, the police were already on their way. Luke was simply trying to buy them all a little more time.
Though the longer it took for the police to show up, the more Kate wondered if maybe he’d set them up to die as well. Maybe he and his daughter were more similar than he’d let on.
“Drop the phone!” Chastity demanded.
“Drop the gun,” Luke countered.
Chastity’s hands began to shake. In that moment, Kate realized why Luke wasn’t afraid to go on taunting her. Chastity couldn’t kill him. If he didn’t have “the gift of the devil” or whatever, then killing Luke would be murder, a sin. And ironically, that was the last thing Chastity Cannon wanted to do.
Luke, apparently having decided he’d waited long enough, said, “Yes, I’d like to report an abduction and attempted murder - ”
“No!” Chastity screamed as the gun slipped out of her hand and tumbled to the ground. Then, like a hysterical child reaching for a candy bar, she lunged toward Luke’s cell phone. But Luke was too fast and too strong for her. He sprinted off into the thick grass to the left, leading Chastity away from Michael. “Beau, help me!” she cried.
As the bulky man barreled across the field after them, Kate made a mad dash over to Michael. She dropped to her knees, scraping both of them in the process, and took his tortured face in her hands.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“I am now,” he told her. But Kate could see the awkward way he held himself and the harsh, plum-colored bruise that was creeping up his neck. He was far from ‘alright.’
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