“They were following his plan — who came along, how far they went until the kill site, etcetera,” Mark said. “Heck, he might have been killing them one at a time, starting from the rear. We’ve got the element of surprise on our side.”
Mark hesitated, seeing that Phil didn’t look convinced.
“He probably figures he’s got until Thursday morning,” Mark continued. “That’s when the delivery truck shows up with next week’s food supplies. He can kill the driver, sure, but then there’s another vehicle in play and there’s no telling if someone could get behind the wheel and get out of here before he can stop them. And then, how long does the delivery company wait before sending another driver or calling the police when the guy doesn’t come back? He’s got to have an endgame that’s less than forty-eight hours away. I don’t know why he’s doing this, but I know he’s not going to stop. The guys who died already are the first, not the last. There’s probably going to be a lot more killing before he’s done with us.”
Phil nodded, knowing what he had to do.
As soon as Father Billy’s speech ended, Douglas Perry had begun organizing a group of campers to start an ongoing fast-and-prayer vigil in the screened-in classroom. He approached a number of kids, ranging in age, to come with him and many agreed, but when he went up to Faith, she was too frazzled to understand what he was asking.
“We’re going to lock ourselves in the classroom to fast and pray for Divine Intervention,” Douglas repeated. “It’s what Father Billy told us to do. You’re either in there with us or you’re out here with the rest of the sheep getting picked off. God will protect His chosen few.”
Faith stared at Douglas’s blank, blue eyes for a while and remembered that there was a time, early on, that he’d been the class scratching post back in elementary school. The gym class bullies were relentless in their anti-Douglas Perry campaign; hanging him from basketball hoops, stuffing him in trash cans, shoving him into the girls locker room (where the girls were just as cruel to him as the boys), antics that not only the coach, a man named Jim Rogers, seemed to turn a blind eye to, but actually found amusing. Faith wasn’t sure if it was because it seemed like Douglas either suffered from serious learning disabilities or was just plain stupid. Faith had heard one of her Sunday school teachers describe it, to the amusement of a couple of parents, as if he was “born without irony.”
Faith didn’t know precisely what this meant, but in general terms thought it meant that Douglas never really understood why anything was funny. Over the years, however, he’d finally found a place where he belonged – the church — and was now considered a solid-enough youth leader capable of handling all sorts of responsibilities.
“Um, thanks, Douglas, but I think Cindy’s going to need me to stay in the kitchen,” Faith offered. “I’ll bring you guys some food.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Douglas replied, the level of urgency increasing in his voice. “We’re going to lock the doors and fast while we pray. We’re only going to bring in bottles of water. No one’s coming in or out.”
“Oh, okay...,” Faith said, wondering how to best demur.
Douglas stared at her for a moment longer, but then nodded as if he ‘understood.’
“Have fun burning in Hell, Witch,” he said, almost as if making a joke. Then, he turned and walked away.
“Finnegan,” she muttered as she went looking for Maia, who she saw running towards a commotion in the kitchen. “Oh, shit...!”
They’d been working on breakfast when Father Billy showed up, but turned off the ovens, so she didn’t think there’d be anything that had to be thrown out. But when she reached the kitchen, she saw that campers were already carting out lots of food.
“What the fuck are you assholes doing?” Maia was screaming at David Boss and a couple of his friends as they raided the kitchen, filling up random bags with food. “We need that stuff.”
“We’re hungry,” David scoffed. “Besides, there’s no way we’re getting busted for this. You heard Father Billy – this is it, no rules, no nothing!”
Faith watched this exchange for a moment, but then turned on her heel. In a huff, she marched straight across the campgrounds for the administrator’s cabin and knocked on the door, seeing Father Billy, Judy, Whit and Cindy through the window, sitting around the table. Cindy looked up, unsure if Faith had any business there, but Father Billy waved her inside.
“Hey, Faith,” he said, as she opened the door and walked in. “What can we do for you?”
“A bunch of the older kids are raiding the kitchen and stealing food!” Faith reported, flustered. “It’s David Boss and them. We won’t be able to make the recipes.”
“I expected that,” Father Billy nodded, regretfully. “We’ll go over in a minute to kick everybody out and lock it up. Thanks for letting us know.”
Faith nodded and was about to leave, when Father Billy continued.
“So, how are you doing?” he asked, almost matter-of-factly.
Faith turned, seeing the eyes of all the counselors on her, eyes that suddenly didn’t appear much older or wiser than her own. She knew they wanted her to speak for the campers, but didn’t know the answer they wanted to hear.
“Um... I don’t know,” she shrugged, though her voice was rising. “Panicked, like everybody else, I guess.”
Father Billy got to his feet and walked over to her, raising his hands.
“Don’t be,” he said. “God will protect you.”
Faith stared up at Father Billy, and then suddenly burst into tears. Even Father Billy looked surprised, but then he put his arms around her. “It’s okay. You just have to grow up a little faster this week.”
“I know,” said Faith. “I didn’t really know any of those kids. I was scared for you, not them, when you didn’t come back last night. I know that’s terrible, but it’s how I felt. I... I didn’t know what to do.”
On the sofa, Cindy blanched. She’d been with Faith the night before making sandwiches, but she hadn’t shared any of this then.
“I was scared, too,” admitted Father Billy. “I didn’t know if I would see you or any of the others ever again. But I put my faith in God and here I am. It just goes to show that sometimes, even in the face of the worst horrors imaginable, that’s what it takes.”
Faith nodded, then leaned up and kissed Father Billy on the cheek.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
With that, she smiled a half-smile and headed out of the cabin.
“See what I mean?” Father Billy said, once she had left. “Even in the darkest of times, you can always rely on ‘Faith.’”
Only Whit managed a laugh at Father Billy’s joke, Cindy and Judy too shocked at the idea of humor to laugh along.
“Sorry,” Father Billy said quickly. “I’m just not feeling myself today.”
Cindy eyed Father Billy and wondered, if only for a moment, whether or not Father Billy’s encounter with the Devil hadn’t been so without after-effects as he suggested. She peered into his eyes, wondering that if the Devil was going to come to them, in what better guise would he arrive than in that of a kindly priest?
But then Father Billy looked at her with those old, baleful eyes she knew so well and she saw the priest she knew again, at least enough of him still there to allay her fears.
Faith ran all the way back to Cabin 6, tears streaming down her face as she went. She had no idea why she was crying, but felt as if the tears had been building up inside her for much of the past twenty-four hours or maybe even longer as they were falling with such fervor. She’d put on a brave face for Father Billy, but now...
“Faith?”
Faith turned and saw Phil standing near the center of the campsite. The campers were ostensibly still confined to their cabins, but once Douglas had started his prayer circle, the whole place had seemingly gone up for grabs while Father Billy and the surviving counselors decided on the next course of action.
“Phil?�
� Faith whimpered, but then reached out and grabbed him around the middle and pulled him tightly to her. “I’m so, so scared.”
“Me, too,” Phil stammered, so stunned was he by Faith’s sudden embrace. “But I need to talk to you in private. It’s really important.”
“Oh, okay,” said Faith, holding her tears back for a moment. “Where can we go?”
“Just come with me.”
Phil knew there would be no one at The Rocks, so he slowly walked Faith in that direction. She figured he was going towards the dock, but as he wheeled her behind the cabins and into the woods, she tightened her grip on his arm and shot him a panicked look.
“Wait – where are we going?” she asked, her eyes wide as she stared beyond the trees.
“The Rocks,” Phil replied. “Figured it would be private.”
“No!” Faith exclaimed, terrified. “What if he’s out there?”
“‘He,’ who?”
“The Devil,” Faith replied in hushed tones, nodding towards the surrounding forest. “Who do you think?”
Phil hesitated. “I think we’ll be okay for the moment. Besides, what better vantage point than The Rocks? If we see anyone coming, we can just jump into the lake.”
Faith’s eyes darted back to the trees, but then realized the lake really was a good fallback position.
“Um, okay. But we have to be careful.”
Once they’d climbed the boulder trail up to the top of The Rocks, Phil told Faith all about Mark’s theory that Father Billy was the killer, how it couldn’t have been the Devil and why, when you went through a timeline of events, Father Billy’s culpability proved out to be the most logical choice as well.
“Who else knew where each of the cell phones would be plugged in?” Phil said, parroting a particularly compelling piece of evidence Mark had cited. “If it was an outsider, they wouldn’t even necessarily know the layout of the camp, much less which was the counselor’s cabin. Also, the phone lines? They must have been cut before we got here, but just – how many times do you think Father Billy talked to his counselors or hell, Humberto talked to Pamela, on those phones? The Jeep? Exact same thing. They probably used it Sunday morning before we got here. Only Father Billy could’ve done all of this.”
When he was finished, Phil looked at Faith for her reaction, but she just sat in stunned silence. He realized that this must be a lot to take in.
“You guys, you and Mark...,” Faith began, finally. “You guys are such colossal assholes.”
“Wait, what...?” Phil said, surprised.
“Father Billy is the Devil?” Faith ranted, getting more enraged by the minute. “That’s what you brought me up here to say? You two are crazy. I’ve heard about people being in denial, but that’s just insane. Heck, if anything, you’ve convinced me that it really must be the Devil because you’re right, it couldn’t be anybody else from the camp. But that doesn’t mean it’s Father Billy!”
Faith practically shrieked this last part, she was so upset.
She had been looking for a shoulder to cry on and had been thankful when Phil appeared out of the blue. Heck, when they’d gone up to The Rocks, he’d been so reassuring and confident and strong, not scared at all, that she felt herself pulling tighter to his side. She knew that this was an unimaginably inappropriate time, but felt if Phil wanted to kiss her up there, as wasn’t the most uncommon of occurrences on The Rocks, she’d probably let him. She even got a little bit of a thrill thinking about it, his arms wrapped tightly around her back as he kissed her on the lips, this new Phil.
But then, here was the old, dopey, easily-led Phil, accusing Father Billy of being a vicious murderer and all she wanted to do was give him a quick, hard shove backwards into the lake.
“I can’t believe you,” she said, shaking her head.
“Faith, listen to me,” Phil said, reaching out and taking her by the shoulders. “Do you really think some mysterious man appeared in front of Father Billy on the road out there speaking in strange tongues, explaining all that mumbo-jumbo about how he – the Devil – was planning to kill all the God-fearing people? That’s the insane part.”
There was maybe a second when Phil’s words gave Faith pause, but then she remembered what he was saying – that Father Billy, a man she regarded practically as a second father, at least an uncle, was a lying psychopath, capable of not only premeditated murder, but also of concocting truly outrageous stories simply to terrify his campers and counselors.
“Phil, I know that it’s been a stressful couple of days and everybody reacts to this kind of thing differently, but if you believe in God, and I know you do, then you believe in the Devil,” Faith said, choosing her words carefully. “But the truth is maybe right now when your faith is being most challenged, you’re convincing yourself that there is no God and that your knowledge is more complete than His. This is your test, Phil, and you’re failing it.”
With that, Faith got to her feet and, for the second time that week, left Phil alone on top of The Rocks, feeling like a fool.
“So, how do we wage war against the Devil?”
This was Judy’s question, her voice laced with incredulity. She really didn’t know the answer and, it seemed, neither did anyone else in the administrator’s cabin.
Whit looked reproachfully at her for even asking while Cindy stared out the window, looking anywhere but at Father Billy who seemed to be considering his answer. Something was bothering her, but she just couldn’t put her finger on what. She was worried about the campers, but not as much as she thought she’d be.
In reality, she was worried about herself.
She felt, deep down, that she could be dead soon and that all her life’s plans were well on their way out the window. After so much pressure over the past few years — to get the best grades, get into the right schools, get enough scholarship money so she’d only have to take one job instead of two — it was as if the promise of death was coming as a relief. All those old stressors felt minute compared to what she was having to face now and she felt an odd calm.
“I don’t know if we can, at least not directly,” admitted Father Billy, answering Judy’s question. “We went out there with eight people, some of the strongest boys in the camp, and were stopped in our tracks. I can’t fathom risking more lives so carelessly.”
“But staying in the camp feels like suicide,” cried Whit. “Are we just going to wait for him to show up on our doorstep like sheep waiting to get slaughtered?”
“I think that’s where faith comes in,” Father Billy offered. “We have to be firm in our belief that our salvation is in His hands. Like I said, we must stay true and reach out to Him through prayer. We are truly Daniel in the lions’ den at the mercy of Our Lord.”
“Is that what you’re going to do, Father?” Cindy asked suddenly. “Pray?”
Even Whit was surprised by what sounded like accusation in Cindy’s voice, but Father Billy pretended like he didn’t notice.
“That’s part of it, but I also see it as my duty to go back out to the woods,” the priest said simply. “If anyone is going to confront this creature, it has to be me. God has made me His vessel and if He chooses to act against the Devil, then we have to assume He will do so through me. If this is to happen, it should be away from the children.”
“But what if it doesn’t spare you a second time?” Whit asked. “We have a responsibility to these kids.”
Father Billy looked down to the floor, as if knowing full-well that he wasn’t the man for the job, probably would be killed and wished there was someone better suited. But then, he looked back up to the three remaining counselors, with a brave face.
“If not me, then who?” he asked rhetorically. “This is as much my test as it is any of yours. Keep the kids together and safe. I don’t know what the Devil has next in store for us, but I doubt it’ll be pleasant. Peace be with you and God bless us all.”
With that, Father Billy rose from his chair and walked out the door without looking
back.
Whit was the first to comment, a panicked look on his face.
“He’s abandoning us...”
None of the campers noticed Father Billy’s exit. He didn’t make a show of it, certainly didn’t say any good-byes, but merely headed out into the trees with a small pack of supplies and disappeared.
Cindy still didn’t understand what was happening or why Whit and Judy would just let Father Billy leave, but she felt paralyzed. Every time she thought of a different option, the reality of the situation reminded her of some reason why that option was crazy. She had even considered giving up on the group entirely and sealing herself in her cabin room with enough supplies to last a month to just ride it out, but felt that the Devil would still find a way to get at her in there. She considered herself striking out on her own, but couldn’t escape the thought that the Devil could see inside her heart and would know where she was, killing her at his leisure.
In truth, she wished somebody would come along and take care of this problem for her, give her the right answer and send her on her way. Knowing that wasn’t going to happen, however, was driving her to distraction, which is when she decided to clear her head by making a circuit of the camp, lock up the kitchen and escape, however briefly, into routine.
As she walked through the site, though, she hadn’t gotten ten yards when a voice called out to her.
“Heeeey, Cindy! Where are you going? Why don’t you come in the water?”
She looked out to the lake and saw that the speaker was none other than David Boss, the boy who had exposed himself to her earlier that day, who — along with a large number of friends – were now splashing around in the water just offshore, same as they were doing the day before. She saw that some of them were wearing clothes, not bathing suits. A number of them also appeared drunk and she spotted a handful of liquor bottles on the dock.
“Are you kidding me?” she bellowed. “There is no drinking at camp, you guys! Who brought this?”
David just chuckled, raised a bottle that he’d taken into the water with him and threw back a slug.
Sunday Billy Sunday Page 11
