by Ren Hamilton
Copie widened his eyes in exaggerated surprise. “Oh, is it serious? You don’t say! You’d think I would have figured that out when I was almost BURNED ALIVE!”
“Relax Copie,” Father Carbone said. “Does anyone have a picture of Shepherd?”
Patrick frowned. “What for?”
Carbone rolled his eyes. “Am I the only one thinking here? We need to know if the Shepherd that tried to kill Copie last night is the same Shepherd that we know. Or at least you two know.”
Robin grabbed her purse and pulled out a wallet-sized photo of her and Shep at the ocean. He had his arm around her. They both looked tanned and happy and in love. For some reason it was painful for Patrick to look at. Robin handed the picture to Father Carbone. He held it up and looked at it. “So,” he said. “That’s him.”
“That’s him,” Robin said softly. Father Carbone handed the picture over to Copie. Copie took it, glancing warily at Robin. He studied the photo while Robin sat nervously twirling a lock of her blonde hair. Copie’s eyes eventually lifted, and he stared at Robin, but said nothing.
“Well?” she demanded. “Don’t spare my feelings! Is it him or isn’t it?”
Copie handed the picture back. “Yes. I’m sorry. It is the same guy.”
Robin took the picture and stuffed it back into her purse. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Patrick put a hand on her shoulder. “Copie, why would Shep want you dead?”
“Because of the photograph. I told him I’d destroy all the copies, but he wouldn’t let me go. He kept talking about loose ends and how his project was more important than my life.”
Patrick shuddered. He could deal with the truth that Shep was morally void, but murder? His mind refused to accept it. “What photograph? What are you talking about?”
“Copie why don’t you just start at the beginning,” Father Carbone said.
Copie sighed. “The beginning. Let’s see. I’m a photography student. I was on a school assignment the night Patrick played Hercules and scaled the wall of St. Mary’s church. The night the apparition appeared. I had two cameras with me, one in my pack and one in my hand. By the time the apparition appeared, I only had one shot left, so I took it and ran out of film. I chucked that camera in my bag and pulled out the second one. I got about four more pictures of the thing before it faded and disappeared. That’s when that Shepherd guy came along and ripped the camera out of my hands. I went after him, but he pushed me, hard, and I fell. He’s a strong little bastard.”
Patrick and Robin both nodded knowingly.
“Lucky for me, or so I thought at the time, he didn’t know about the other camera. I ended up with one single, very clear shot of the apparition. One that proved it was a fake. You could see the bow on her nightgown. That photo was destroyed last night. I was nearly destroyed along with it.”
Father Carbone looked thoughtful. “How did Shep come to find out that you had this other photograph in your possession?”
“Not sure. I called the local television station. Here I was, thinking I was gonna be this big news hero. The guy at the news desk said he wanted to come down and interview me right away. The next thing I know I’m being ambushed by these guys. That Shepherd guy is a cold motherfucker.” Copie looked at the priest. “Oh, sorry Father.”
“Guys, plural?” Carbone asked. “There were others with him?”
“Yeah. Three of them were foreigners, I could tell by the way they talked. They all had that same bad Shirley Temple hair. They came with that guy from the television station. His name was Randy. No, wait a minute. It wasn’t Randy. Russell.”
“Russell?” Robin said, sounding shocked.
“Yes. It was Russell. I’m sure of it.”
Patrick looked at Robin. “Craig said Russell was working at the television station.”
Carbone cleared his throat. “I’m trying to keep up here guys, but who the hell is Russell?”
“Russell, along with his twin brother Craig, was the technical creator of the translucent apparition that appeared on your church. Man, I knew Russell had a thing for Shep, but I never thought he’d take it so far as to kill for him. What did Russell look like, Copie?”
“Dark hair, big glasses. Kind of a dweeb.”
“Shit!” Robin said.
Father Carbone looked at her. “Same Russell?”
Robin nodded, looking defeated. “I can’t believe this.”
Father Carbone got up and paced the room, rubbing his chin. The rest of them sat silently, waiting for him to speak. Patrick wasn’t sure how it had happened, but it seemed Father Carbone had been made the ringleader. In a very short time, Patrick had gone from disliking the priest to feeling somewhat comforted by his presence.
Carbone finally stopped pacing and came back to the table. “Okay, listen up. This has entered criminal territory now, so it’s good we’ve got that meeting today. Patrick, Robin, and I will go talk to Agent Litner. A secure location has been arranged. I’m sure he can arrange for protective custody for Copie until this thing is resolved. You can stay here for now Copie, just don’t go outside.”
Copie looked from the priest to Patrick, then back again. “Whoa, wait a minute here,” he said. “Agent Litner? What is Agent Litner an agent of exactly?”
“Guess,” Patrick answered. “As I said, we’re knee deep in shit here, Copie. Aren’t you glad you dropped by?”
“Hold on a minute. The law is involved in this, and you guys want to stick me in a closet while you go talk to them? Someone tried to kill me! I want to be involved!”
“Son, there is a lot more going on here than you know about. We can’t risk involving you,” Carbone said, putting a fatherly hand on Copie’s shoulder.
“What do you mean, we can’t risk involving you? So you’re a cop now? You’re a priest! And I gather that Robin used to hook up with Shepherd, but Patrick, why are you so important?”
“They asked me to become involved in this investigation, Copie, not that I have to justify myself to you.”
“Yeah?” Copie said. “Well they’re going to ask me to become involved once they know what I know. I heard those freaks talking while they were rigging the lab. They’re planning something. I know where and when it’s going to happen.”
“They’re planning something? Like what?” Patrick asked.
Copie crossed his arms stubbornly in front of his chest. “That’s between me and the agent,” he said. “I can’t risk involving you.”
Patrick stood up. “You little creep! You have no idea what I’ve been through!”
“Oh, what you’ve been through? Raise your hand if you almost got blown up last night.” Copie raised his hand and looked around the room.
Patrick smiled in spite of himself. Even Robin chuckled. They’d been under so much stress it was good to have someone around with a sense of humor. That had always been Shep’s contribution to the group, and now that it was gone, it was missed.
“All right, Copie,” the priest said. “But you’d better have something valuable to say. Agent Litner can smell a lie better than anyone I know.”
“Hey, I wasn’t bullshitting you,” Copie said. “I really did hear Shepherd say something about an outing next week.”
“Fine,” Father Carbone said, “but it’s ultimately up to Agent Litner whether he wants to involve you or not. Patrick, you said these guys have been following you, so Litner has arranged…Patrick? Are you all right?”
Patrick gripped his shoulder wincing. Robin touched his arm. “Patrick? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Patrick screamed, still gripping his shoulder as he fell to the floor.
Father Carbone ran to him. “Patrick! What is it? What’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know! I’m getting these pains in my shoulder. It’s like someone’s sticking a hot poker into me!”
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Robin yelled.
Patrick stiffened, his eyes rolling back as images flooded his mind. He saw people running and sc
reaming. He saw blood on Joey. He felt fear. He was vaguely aware of Father Carbone’s voice saying, “He’s having a seizure!” Then it all stopped. The pain was suddenly gone, and Patrick was alert and trying to sit up.
“Jesus Christ, Obrien!” Robin helped him sit up. “What the hell was that about?”
Patrick rubbed his shoulder. The pain was gone but he was left with a dull throbbing. “It’s Joey. I saw him in my mind so clearly. Something must have happened.”
They looked at him as though marbles were falling out of his ears. “Excuse me?” Father Carbone said.
“Joey. I’m not sure, but I think he’s been hurt.”
Robin scrunched her face up. “How the hell would you know that?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know what’s happening to me.” Patrick sat on the floor rocking as the pain gradually dissipated. He tried explaining again about the dreams he’d been having. Lately, when the nightmares woke him, he was left with a throbbing pain in his head that took large doses of ibuprofen to dull.
Father Carbone and Robin looked concerned, and Copie looked at him like he was nuts. “You got some weird shit going on here,” Copie stated bluntly. “I’m not sure who’s crazier, you or those freaks that tried to kill me.”
“We could do without the commentary, Copie,” Father Carbone said, as he tried to help Patrick into a chair. Patrick shrugged him off and stood on his own.
“I have to go outside for a minute,” Patrick said.
“What for?” Robin demanded. “Obrien, what just happened! You scared the shit out of me!”
“I have to make a call,” he said, pulling his phone out and heading for the door.
Robin caught up with him. “You’re going to call Forest Bluffs, aren’t you? After everything we just heard, you’re going to call Shep!”
“Robin, I have to make sure Joey’s all right. I don’t want to but it’s like I can’t help myself, and I’m freaked out, so just give me five minutes, okay?” She finally let go of his arm. Patrick stepped out onto the little stoop with his phone, leaving the others bewildered.
Shep answered the call. “Forest Bluffs Ministry,” said the familiar voice. “You sin it, we spin it!”
“I know you know it’s me, Shep, cut the crap.”
“Obrien! Well, this is certainly a surprise. Have you called to tell me you’ve come to your senses?”
“No. I’m calling to see about Joey. Is he all right? Did something…happen to him?”
“What the fuck do you care?”
“I care! Now just tell me, Shepherd! Is he all right?”
“Why don’t you come out here and see for yourself?”
“Damn it, Shep. Don’t do this. Just tell me. Please.”
There was silence on the other end. Patrick thought Shep was going to hang up on him, then he heard him sigh. “Some sniper took a shot at Joey. The bullet grazed his shoulder, but he’s all right.”
Patrick let his breath out. “Who the hell was it? Who would do that?”
“Who knows? This wouldn’t have happened if you were here looking out for him. Can’t you just come down for a day or two, just so we can talk about things?”
“If you want to talk about things, Shep, why don’t you come to my apartment? Come back to the city. Then we can talk.”
There was a hesitation. Patrick knew Shep would not agree. For whatever reason, the plan was to get Patrick to Forest Bluffs. “I’d love to, Obrien, but this is a bad week for me. I’m going out of town on Wednesday, and—”
“Goodbye, Shep.”
“Obrien, wait!”
Patrick hung up. He walked back into the little kitchen. “Well it appears Copie was right,” he said. “Shep just told me he’s going out of town on Wednesday.”
“What about the pain in your shoulder?” Robin said. “Nothing’s wrong, right?”
Patrick grew still. “Joey was shot in the shoulder. He’s fine. The bullet just grazed him.” They all stared. Patrick grew uncomfortable under the weight of their eyes.
“Shot? Who the hell shot him?” Robin asked.
“I don’t know.”
“How could you have known that?” Copie asked.
“I told you, I don’t know. Joey and I seem to have a link, ever since…”
He didn’t finish the thought. Father Carbone finished it for him. “Ever since the blood pact. That is what you were going to say, isn’t it?”
Patrick shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Well did you ever have psychic impressions before?” The priest kept his voice calm but he looked rattled.
“No. Never.”
Copie began to pace. “Oh man. This is some creepy shit.”
“Amen,” Father Carbone muttered. “Agent Litner is sending a car for us. Maybe this will make more sense after we talk to him.”
“Maybe it won’t,” Robin said.
* * * *
They rode in near silence for an hour, until finally the car slinked up alongside the darkened double doors of a nightclub called The Caboose. The driver put the car in park and got out. He opened their door and stuck his head in. “Follow me and do exactly as I say.”
They followed the driver into a lobby where a woman stood behind a podium. He spoke to her briefly, turned back to them and said, “Stay here,” then followed the woman into the club and was gone. The four of them stood around the lobby awkwardly. The club looked empty aside from the bartenders and wait staff, who eyeballed them suspiciously from inside the darkened space.
“This is a joke,” Copie said.
“You wanted to come,” Father Carbone reminded him. “You’re still complaining?”
“No, I mean, this is literally a joke. A blonde, an Irishman, a black man, and a priest walk into a bar. We’re a bad punchline waiting to happen.”
They laughed, enjoying the temporary stress release. They were still snickering when Patrick saw Agent Litner standing at the entrance of the adjoining room, watching them. His white hair looked blue under the filtered club lights. “If I’m not interrupting your fun, you can all follow me,” he said.
Father Carbone took the lead and the rest of them followed behind. “So, Carbone,” Agent Litner said, glancing back at Copie and Robin, “you’ve collected quite an entourage since we last spoke.”
“As I told you on the phone, Steven—”
“Save it.”
Litner didn’t sound pleased. Patrick felt responsible for the additions to their group. He was like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, picking up stray characters along the way to aid him on his quest.
The agent led them to a private room where a muscular bearded man with long yellow hair sat waiting at a table. Patrick recognized him from the other day at Father Carbone’s. He was one of the door guards. The man stood when they entered the room, and Patrick felt small for the first time in his life. The guy was a mountain.
“This is Agent Rourke,” Litner said. They all shook hands and joined him at the table. Agent Litner pulled out a folder and got right to business. “Father Carbone has briefed me on the events that have transpired since we last spoke, Mr. Obrien. Am I to assume you have a good reason for betraying my confidence and involving others?”
Patrick was speechless for a moment. This was not getting off to a good start. “Robin and Copie can both help. Robin knows Shep and Joey better than anybody does. Copie has information he acquired during a life-threatening altercation with Shep.”
Agent Litner stared at Copie and narrowed his eyes. “Father Carbone informed me. Is the story you told him the truth?”
“Yeah!” Copie said. “Check yourself, the fire at the lab must be news by now.”
Litner’s expression did not change. “What is this information you have that’s so valuable?”
Copie opened his mouth, but Patrick cut in. “Hold on a minute, Litner. You can start by telling me why the hell you’re investigating Forest Bluffs in the first place. I’ve seen Father Carbone’s little collection of Shep par
aphernalia. I doubt you became involved because Shep had some strange photographs and a handwritten fairytale. Carbone said you had something worse.”
Litner glared at Father Carbone, and Patrick was thankful he wasn’t on the receiving end of it. “Oh he did, did he?”
The priest shook his head. “You don’t understand, Steven. I told Patrick I couldn’t give him all the details. That he’d have to ask you what prompted the initial investigation of Forest Bluffs.”
Agent Litner stared at Patrick, his face unchanged. “Are you agreeing to the terms that we discussed?”
“Yes. I’ll go to Forest Bluffs. But I want some answers first.”
“Very well.” Litner pulled a sheet of paper out of his folder and gave it to Patrick. Patrick examined it. It was a spreadsheet of a world population chart, the statistics ranging from the present day to fifty years in the future. The numbers correlating to the number of human beings on the planet decreased at a steady rate as the years went by, with a jagged line drawn to illustrate the digression.
The chart showed the world’s population take a drastic plunge over the next thirty years, then begin to level out again. Patrick shrugged and put the sheet aside. “Is this supposed to mean something to me?”
“Read the caption in the top left corner,” Litner ordered.
Patrick sighed and picked up the spreadsheet. It had a caption printed along the top of the page reading, ‘Population Predictions/After Arcania.’ He looked at Agent Litner. “After Arcania? What the hell is Arcania? I don’t understand. Where did you get this?”
“It was in the possession of Melvin Shepherd,” Litner said. “I assume he created it.”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
Litner looked around the table. “Have any of you heard of Arcania?”
Robin shrugged. “Arcania Foods?”
“Yes, exactly,” Litner said.
“I’ve heard of Arcania Foods, but I don’t know anything about them,” Patrick said. “Is that the Arcania referred to on this chart?”
“We think so.”
