Evil Agreement

by Richard L Hatin

  Aaron reaches out his own right hand. He is able to retrieve Korie as he lowers her back to the ground.

  “I will destroy you,” shouts Kelley.

  “Your mission has failed.” Gesturing to the souls he says, “They demand justice. They are here to bear witness to your failure.”

  “I will bring Lucifer,” said Kelley.

  “You will bring nothing. You are going to go back to hell where you belong. You will answer to Lucifer for your failure.”

  Kelley stretches out her two arms towards Aaron. A huge ball of hellfire flies towards him. He holds up his own hands and the fireball vaporizes.

  Kelley jumps down from the altar and reaches her hands into the air above her head. She flings them towards Aaron. Lightning bolts crackle as they erratically fly from her hands towards Aaron. Once again, he raises his own hands and these lightning bolts rebound off of him back towards Kelley. The lightning misses her and explodes into the ground.

  The crowd begins to back away.

  “To hell,” shouted many of the souls “Send him back,” shout others.

  “Kelley, listen to my voice,” said Aaron.

  “You wish to speak to Kelley,” bellows Moloch. “There is no Kelley.”

  “Yes, there is. Kelley together we can cast him out.”

  Kelley now rushes towards Aaron. It is clear her intent is to get her hands on him, to kill him.

  He raises his right hand and signals the sign of the cross in the air in front of him.

  Kelley stops, cringing at this gesture.

  “I call upon all of the saints, the angels and archangels, God’s faithful and the Holy Trinity. It is they who now command you to leave this woman.”

  Kelley throws up her arms as if to ward off his words.

  “Get away from her. Leave her body and spirit now. We command you to go.”

  “I’m not leaving. She’s mine. Together we will bring forth Lucifer,” said Kelley with less conviction than before.

  Aaron steps towards her. She backs away. He moves still closer. She continues to retreat. Suddenly he reaches out to her. He places his right hand on her head. A huge explosion of light bursts out from under his palm.

  Moloch lets out a huge cry, “No!”

  “By all the power of goodness, by all that is holy, we the faithful hereby call upon Christ our Savior, the Holy Spirit, and God the Creator, in their name we now command you to go. Leave this person, leave this place. Return to the eternity of damnation that is your place.”

  Kelley’s body begins to shake. Her entire body flashes back and forth from that of a young woman to one possessed by Moloch.

  The ground shakes.

  Suddenly Kelley’s mouth opens and a twirling series of lights swirl out of her into the air.

  Her body falls limply to the ground. She begins to evolve back into human form. Meanwhile the twirling lights explode into the air. Now standing over Aaron and Kelley is the ever-menacing Moloch.

  Aaron turns and steps between Moloch and Kelley.

  Moloch glares at Aaron. His snake like tongue flicks the air.

  The two stare at each other.

  Aaron reaches up and joins his hands in a prayerful clasp. He then opens his hands, and faces his palms towards Moloch. From his palms moves a bluish light which spreads out in front of him. This light appears to be composed of hundreds of tiny hands, all facing Moloch palm side forward. As these hands reach Moloch, his figure suddenly implodes. Moloch is now vanquished.

  Korie runs to Aaron and throws her arms around him. She kisses him several times.

  Kelley stands up and is fully clothed, as she was when she first arrived. She also runs over and hugs Aaron and Korie.

  “Miss Beacon!” said Aaron.

  The three of them turn and search the crowd for her. She is nowhere to be seen.

  Many in the crowd are walking around holding their heads.

  “What happened” says one. “What are we doing up here?” said another.

  Samuel’s body twists and cavorts on the ground as his evil spirit struggles to extricate itself from his body. He moans softly.

  Kelley and Korie both go to him.

  Kneeling next to him Kelley strokes his hair.

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  He reaches up and touches his throat. It’s still very tender.

  “Ouch,” he says.

  “Samuel, say something!” said Kelley.

  “Don’t call me Samuel. You know I hate that. Where are we anyway?”

  Kelley looks at Korie and they both smile.

  Aaron continues to look for Miss Beacon. It seems she has disappeared. Aaron noticed the souls, the source of his righteous power had also vanished as well.

  People began to drift to the trail road to leave the mountain.

  Aaron knew his work wasn’t quite done. The members of the coven are collapsed on the ground. Their bodies are trapped in a half-transformed state. One by one he approaches each coven member, reaching out to them, as he had with Moloch just moments before. The same bluish light and tiny hands push out towards the coven members. Soon the member’s bodies give up their fiendish hell mates. The coven member’s clothes reappear as well. One by one they regain consciousness and stand up. Soon they also begin to leave the clearing.

  He couldn’t do anything for Ed, the Judge or the Reverend. Their fates were well beyond his reach.

  Aaron walks over towards the woods next to the changing tent. Just beyond was the cemetery of his ancestors. He went and stood next to the wrought iron gate. Standing just inside the gate is Aaron’s mother. Behind her is Aaron’s grandmother and so on. They all approach the gate. One by one they reach across and hug him.

  His mother hugs him last. She reaches up and caresses his head with her hands, then she pulls him to her and she kisses him on the forehead. When he raises his head up he notices that they are all gone.

  Sadly he turns back towards the clearing.

  Aaron heads over to Kelley, Korie and Sammy. Together they leave the clearing and head back down the mountain.

  ***

  The front door to Mojo’s is open. Aaron and Korie step inside. Aaron pays the attendant the required cover charge. In a moment, a young man comes up to them and escorts them to a table for two on the left side of the room. A house band is playing a Junior Wells blues classic called Messin’ with the Kid.

  Aaron and Korie sit down. In a moment a young woman comes by and asks, “Can I get you folks something to drink?”

  “Sure, I’ll have a Green Slime,” said Aaron.

  “I’ll have Sex on the Beach,” said Korie.

  “Are you guys sure these are real drinks?” asked the woman.

  “Trust us,” said Korie.

  “Okay,” said the waitress as she turns and heads over to the bar.

  “I like this place,” said Aaron.

  “Yeah, me too,” said Korie. “I’m glad we decided to come back.”

  Just then someone slapped Aaron on the back.

  “Hey man, how’re doin?” asked a familiar voice.

  Aaron turned around and recognized the club’s owner, Ron.

  “We’re doing fine, just fine.”

  “That’s cool. Say, you know the last time you two were here?”

  “Yeah,” said Aaron.

  “Do you remember a crazy son of a bitch looking to get his hands on you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Mean bastard.”

  “You could say that.”

  “He tried messin’ with me. I knew I couldn’t stop him but I tried to slow him up for you guys.”

  “You did good.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” said Aaron.

  “Is he still after you?”

  “No. Let’s just say that he won’t be bothering anyone anymore.”

  “I see!” said Ron.

  “Everything’s cool. Just Cool!” said Aaron.

  The house band announced their next song. It was a song w
ritten by Bono, from the band U2, for B.B. King. The song’s title is When Love Comes to Town.

  The band began to play.

  “You guys going to be staying in town for long?” asked Ron.

  “Don’t know yet,” said Aaron.

  “Well, you’re always welcome. Would you like to see my new Fender Strat? It once belonged to Albert King.”

  Korie looked over at Aaron. She reached across the table and touched his hand and said, “You two go on. I’ll be okay, really.”

  Aaron pushed himself away from the table and stood up. He and Ron began to head back stage. The waitress arrived with their drinks.

  Aaron looked back at the table and spoke up, “Hey, Angel, put that table on my tab.”

  The waitress nodded as she put the two drinks down on the table.

  “Did he just call you Angel?” asked Korie.

  “Yeah” said the waitress. It’s my name, see,” she said as she showed her nametag to Korie.

  Korie looked at the nametag and sure enough it said, “Angel.”

  “Today’s my first day.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Korie as she looked into the waitress’ eyes.

  For a brief moment they looked at each other.

  Korie smiled and then Angel, the waitress, smiled as well.

  “Well, Angel, good luck with the job.”

  “Thanks,” she responded. “If it’s okay, I’ll come back in a little while, for your dinner order.”

  “Sure.”

  The waitress turned and left.

  Korie watched her walk away.

  Aaron and Ron were heading back to their table. Ron was carrying a guitar and Aaron was toting a bass guitar.

  Korie smiled at the sight of those two bluesmen wannabees.

  She turned and looked across the room and noticed that Angel was watching, too.

  ***

  It was an extremely humid night in the jungle. The daytime temperature had been over one hundred degrees. While the nighttime temperature had fallen to below seventy-five degrees, the humidity still remained.

  Under lamplight, a man was mixing certain ‘over the counter’ chemicals, along with number two fuel oil, in a large blue plastic thirty gallon barrel. He slowly stirred the mix. He was mixing homemade explosives for a bomb he was building.

  Several other men were huddled nearby over a large map, which was unfolded over the hood of a beat up old Toyota pickup truck. They were busy discussing their plans.

  These men were part of the Cinque Liberos, a so-called people’s revolutionary army, seeking to overthrow the government of Columbia. Ever since the U.S. Government had aided in the Colombian Army’s coup of their government, the new military government had been able to wage a successful campaign against the drug lords. The drug lords had been striking back with a fury.

  Assassinations and bombings had been going on nearly non-stop for over a year.

  The U.S. was sending its top law enforcement official, General Francis Templeton, Drug Czar, to Columbia to meet with the Colombian President, as a show of solidarity with the struggles of the new Columbian government. The terrorists had learned of this meeting and were planning to set off several bombs at the meeting site.

  One of the men looking over the map said, “I would kiss the ass of the devil himself to be sure that our plans would succeed.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” said another.

  The other men nodded their agreement.

  “Maybe I could be of some assistance,” said the voice of a stranger who stepped out of the darkness.

  In an instant, all the men drew their guns.

  The man mixing the explosives didn’t. He was too busy praying that bullets didn’t start flying, not while he was standing next to the explosives.

  “Who are you?” demanded one of the men.

  “My name is Moloch.”

  Acknowledgments

  I have received support and encouragement from so many people. Where does one begin? For me, it begins with my parents, Reginald and Rose Hatin, who encouraged me to read anything and everything. They instilled in me a willingness to dream, to take risks and to embrace a mantra that “nothing is impossible.” My very best friend and wife, Anne, has always shared my passion for reading and writing and is always the first to read and critique my writing. She faithfully gives me a “readers” perspective.

  My oldest son R. Joel Hatin is a talented computer expert who is responsible for the design of my website www.richardhatin.com. He will also serve as my expert on all things, “social media.” My second son Aaron Hatin designs all the covers for my novels and is in his own right a gifted and talented computer and video artist. My youngest son Brady Hatin is a very creative and talented man who has introduced me to new things in art and literature which challenge and motivates me. Thanks guys!

  I also need to thank Liz Thomas who has volunteered to read my material and has lent a critical eye when necessary.

  I also need to thank the dozens of friends, family, and neighbors who have volunteered their time to read drafts of my novels. Their feedback and encouragement has provided me with needed fuel, that I drawn upon, as I continue to write.

  I also wish to thank Lisa Kimball, who got everything rolling for me by introducing me to her friend, Tim Packman, an accomplished and recognized writer of family friendly books. Tim listened to my story about struggling to get published and offered his own excellent advice and encouragement. He introduced me to Cathy Teets, President of Headline Books. Cathy listened to my “pitch” and took a chance on me by considering samples of my work. I owe a big thank you to Cathy and her staff for all that they have done on my behalf.

  About the Author

  Richard L. Hatin was born in Burlington, Vermont where he attended area schools graduating from St. Michael’s College in 1971 with a B.A. in English Literature. He went on to a successful career in local and state government until 1974 when he was recruited to join the U.S Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD). He worked for the New England Office of Community Planning and Development. He retired as the Deputy Director of the New England Office of Community Planning and Development in 2010. During his government career, Mr. Hatin wrote several articles for regional and national publications serving the interests of those involved in Community Renewal.

  Mr. Hatin served on the boards of many local, state, and national organizations as well as served as an active volunteer in the community. He has received numerous local and state awards for his service to youth. He has also contributed numerous articles to state, regional and national youth sports publications.

  Mr, Hatin also plays several musical instruments.

  Recently he has undertaken the serious pursuit of creative writing and now that his first novel has been published, he has another in the works to be released in the near future.

  He is a member of the International Thriller Writers, Mystery Writers of America, and the New Hampshire Writer’s Project.

  He lives with his wife, Anne Marie, in Hooksett, New Hampshire and together they have three sons, and three granddaughters.

  For more information visit www.RichardHatin.com and www.PublisherPage.com