by Jonas Saul
“Why not?”
“No time.”
“What do you mean?”
“I need to learn tonight.”
The man raised his eyebrows and looked at his three instructors. Then all four of them stared back at her.
“Are you thinking you’ll be attacked tonight?” he asked. “Is that why you locked my door when you entered?”
“Something like that.”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing I can teach you in a few hours that’ll save your life.”
She was out of luck. This was a colossal waste of time. There was nothing left to say. She knew what Waller had learned took years of discipline and practice. She just thought that they could teach her a couple of moves that she could master in her spare time. But it was no use.
She turned to go.
“Wait.”
She stopped without turning around, her back to them.
“You can learn a few things, but it would take more than one night.”
She looked back over her shoulder. “I don’t have much time.”
“Are you in mortal danger?”
She spun around. “You could say that.”
“Not any longer.”
“What does that mean?”
“As long as you’re in my gym, no one can touch you. You’re safe here.”
“Big words for someone who doesn’t know me or the danger I face.”
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.”
She put her hands on her hips. The speaker was attractive and well-built. She loved his confidence and his smile that wasn’t a smile. The smirk was behind his eyes. He was toying with her, but she didn’t know why or how much he knew.
Did he actually know her face or was he a pig, getting off on flirting with her? Maybe they had seen the news today and were already wondering how to call the police.
“Now it’s your turn,” she said. “Speak up. No games. What do you know?”
“I know that you didn’t cause that disturbance this morning at the mall.”
So they did know her.
“How could you be so certain? Are you going to call the police?” Sarah asked.
“No, and neither will my instructors.”
“Why not? What’s in it for you?”
“Nothing really … other than the honor of meeting the pretty, one and only, Sarah Roberts.” He motioned to the instructors beside him. “What are the odds that she would walk into our gym after what we said last week?”
“What did you say last week?” She felt like a fish taking the bait.
“Last year, I was in a fight for my life. I lost my sister, Joanne, to a crazy, power-hungry Brit, and then he shot me twice and broke my wrist.” The man opened his white robe to show her two bullet holes in his chest. “These three men, Alex, Benjamin, and Daniel, all came to my rescue. Without them, I would be dead right now.” He paused to clear his throat. “When I read about you in the paper last week and how you died in a simple car accident after all that you’d done to help others, we were saddened. We need more people like you, Sarah, and if someone is out there, wanting to hurt you, they’re going to have to get through us first.”
Stunned by his speech, weakened by a couple of near death experiences in one day, Sarah almost dropped and lay out on the matted floor. Sheer willpower kept her standing.
“That’s very kind of you, but these men—”
He waved her off. “Are they outside? Did they follow you here?”
“No.”
“Then they can wait. We can start training you tonight. We’ll take turns instructing you. We just ask that you give us as much time as you can. One night won’t cut it. Does that work for you?”
“Yes … but why? Why help me like this? I just walked in the door.”
Daniel stepped forward. “It’s what we do. Self-defense. It’s that simple. When we heard about you, defending the weak, saving people, getting kidnapped in their place, well, let’s just say we respect that. We’re more alike than you know.”
She pushed on. “How are we alike?”
“We helped people that needed it last year. The bad guys are dead. Aaron got shot. His sister was killed. He even had to deal with an attempted murder charge, but it was dropped. We would love to help, but you have to be willing to accept it.”
“I’m sorry about your sister,” she said to Aaron. “I lost my sister to a violent murder many years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” Aaron said.
“How much will this cost?”
“No charge.”
Aaron stepped between the three instructors and walked up to Sarah.
“My name is Aaron Stevens.” He held his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”
She shook his hand. His grip was firm, but comforting. Her stomach tingled. He exuded an attractive strength.
“Can we continue this conversation in my office?” he asked.
Chapter 17
Simon and Philip got to the apartment door at the same time. Philip saw the eviction notice before Simon could remove it.
“Is that another eviction notice?” Philip asked.
“Nothing to worry about.”
Simon unlocked the door and entered the apartment. It seemed quieter, somehow. Just this morning, they had been seven members strong. Now only three remained, with Thomas on the road. He would be in the U.S. by now. By sunup, Dolan and possibly Esmerelda would be dead. Then Sarah’s parents.
Everything he was working toward was finally coming together. If only he could get close enough to Sarah.
“We’re being evicted? What are we going to do?” Philip asked.
“Nothing.”
Philip scrunched his eyebrows together. “Nothing? How’s that? We can’t just ignore it.”
Simon ripped the notice in half. “Actually, yes we can. This will be all over by tomorrow, maybe the next day. We won’t return to this apartment after that.”
“Where will we go?” Philip asked, genuinely concerned.
“Wherever the Lord takes us.”
“That’s no kind of answer.”
“What do you want me to say?” Simon went into the kitchen to prepare two glasses of wine and some bread. His stomach called for more, but these were the rations they had set aside when they first began.
“I don’t know. I guess I just thought we’d be Raptured when this was over. I thought you said we were going to see God.”
Simon chastised himself for forgetting what he had said earlier. As far as Philip was concerned, they were all dead when Sarah died.
“And I still mean it.”
“Now I’m confused.”
He turned and handed Philip a glass of wine. “Drink the blood of Christ first. Then we talk.”
Philip sipped his wine. Simon followed suit. He collected his thoughts and said, “Let’s say Matthew sends me a message tonight or tomorrow that tells us we have someone else to Rapture. Then I would continue our work in the name of the Lord. But at this point, the last communication we have on this is that we are to go home once Sarah is dealt with. So both answers are correct.” Simon was proud of himself with the bullshit he spewed.
Philip shrugged and nodded. “Okay. I’m just a little rattled by seeing two more brothers killed tonight—”
“Not killed,” Simon said, raising his hand to ward off the word. “Raptured. They’re at the Lord’s table tonight, having a feast. If anything, feel jealousy that we aren’t there with them.”
Philip didn’t appear comfortable with that thought. Simon could tell he was conflicted and doubting. He yearned to send him home early. He had a needle in his pocket that would have Philip out of his life for good and all the questions gone with him. But he couldn’t just yet. He may need his help with Sarah. She had proved feisty. Difficult to just happen upon and take out. So for now, Philip stayed.
But he still needed to deal with the doubt. Since there was just the two of them, he decided to let Philip in on a few secrets.
> Simon set his wine on the counter.
“Would you like to see something?” Simon asked.
“Sure,” Philip nodded and shrugged.
“Then set your glass down and come with me.”
Philip did as he was told. Simon led him from the apartment, down the elevator and into the basement storage facility the building offered its tenants. It was a test of Philip’s trust in Simon that he followed without hesitation or question. Simon could very well have been taking him down to execute him, but Philip stayed close.
Maybe he had plans of his own. Maybe as Simon walked the narrow corridor between the units, Philip planned on sticking a needle in Simon. He hadn’t thought of that earlier, but now felt a certain kind of trepidation at the thought.
He looked over his shoulder. Philip smiled at him, staying close.
Too close.
There was a fleeting moment when Simon was sure that Philip meant him harm. They stepped in front of unit 347 and Simon dismissed the idea. He had saved Philip’s life. The man wouldn’t entertain the idea of murder unless he was being attacked.
Simon fumbled with the keys trying to insert them into the lock.
“Here, I can help,” Philip offered.
“It’s okay, I got it.”
The key slipped in. Simon turned it and opened the lock.
“What you are going to see no one knows about. This is highly secret.”
Philip nodded. “I respect confidentiality.”
Simon opened the door to the storage unit. Two small white fridges sat side by side on the cement floor of the tiny storage unit.
“This is where I store all the syringes.”
Philip’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped. “All of it?”
Simon met his eyes and nodded.
“But I thought you had them somewhere else,” Philip said, a tone of surprise. “All this time you’ve been coming down here to get more?”
“That’s right. I didn’t tell any of you in case you got taken alive by the authorities. I couldn’t allow anyone to reveal where our stash was. But since you’re the only one left, if anything happens to me, you’ll need to know where they are.”
“Thank you, Brother Simon, for showing me this. Thank you for the trust.”
They embraced.
“It’s almost over, Brother Philip.”
Simon stepped out of the storage unit, waited for Philip, and then locked the door.
“I have a spare key for you.” They walked back through the corridor. “You’ll keep it on you at all times in case we come back to the apartment and the eviction has taken place.”
“But, Simon, when they evict you from the apartment, they also take your storage unit. We would come down and the lock will have been cut off.”
“That is true, but not our lock.”
“Why not?”
“Because the unit they gave us for our apartment is sitting two rows over. It is empty and has no lock.”
“Then whose unit are we using?”
“It was just an empty unit I found when roaming these halls when we moved in.”
They made it to the elevator, and Simon pushed the button.
“You don’t think that’s risky? What if the owner decides to use it and has the locks cut off?”
“God has our back. It is his plan. Matthew told me that unit 347 will remain empty for the time we are here.”
“Ah, that’s good,” Philip said. “That’s safe then.”
Simon nodded. The light was back in Philip’s eyes. He didn’t seem as doubtful. He had been brought in on something monumental. He had been given the proverbial key to the Rapture.
The elevator took them to their floor. Once in the apartment, they resumed drinking their wine, talked about the night’s events more, and decided to retire early.
“I’m going to pray in the other room and wait for Matthew to contact me. This time we will get Sarah and send her home. Goodnight, Brother Philip.”
“Goodnight, Brother Simon. I’m not tired. I think I’ll go for a walk to clear my head.”
“A walk?” Simon stared at him, wondered what Philip was up to, and then decided not to challenge him after regaining his faith. “Maybe that’s a good idea. Then off you go. We’ll see you in the morning.”
Philip grabbed the keys, put his shoes on and left.
Simon turned the apartment lights off and went onto the balcony. He only had to wait four minutes before Philip walked down the sidewalk surrounding the building.
“Good,” Simon whispered from eleven floors above Philip. “I wouldn’t want you up to no good. Maybe a walk is exactly what you need.”
Simon went to the bedroom and closed the door. He sat in front of the altar and waited for Matthew to contact him.
Matthew did. Ten minutes later. With news of Sarah and where she would be in two day’s time.
Matthew said he was still being blocked on some details, but he could see that this time, Simon would have the pleasure of jamming the needle into Sarah’s neck.
It was over. One day after tomorrow. Matthew said he saw the needle in Sarah’s neck.
Thy will be done.
“Sarah Roberts, you will be dead,” Simon whispered to himself, a large smile on his face.
Chapter 18
Sarah sat in a plush office chair on the opposite side of Aaron’s desk. He had sent his three instructors home. This was a chance for Aaron and Sarah to talk, find out what she needed from him and how Aaron and his dojo could help.
“Tell me about these men in overcoats,” Aaron said.
“I don’t know much. They call themselves the Rapturites. Apparently they’ve come to Rapture me.”
“Sounds sexual.”
She squinted at his playfulness. “Trust me, it’s not.”
“I know, I know,” he said and bowed his head in an exaggerated display of shame. “Tell me more.”
“They just showed up this morning at the mall. I was there as part of an exchange, which is unrelated and too long a story to tell now.”
“Okay, so, let me get this straight. They just walked in and started killing people …”
Sarah nodded. “What I think everyone’s missing is that these people are killing for God—they really believe in the Rapture. They can do no wrong. Even cops aren’t exempt—that’s how the Rapture is supposed to work, right? God takes the good ones home.”
Aaron leaned back in his chair, a half smile on his face. “Why would you say cops are ‘supposedly’ the good guys?”
“In my experience, I haven’t had a lot of faith in the authorities.”
“Funny, me either.”
“Cops aren’t exactly well-adjusted people. They had bad childhoods too. Some of them have seen hard shit and dealt with hard shit. That’s what makes them want to be cops in the first place. Therapists are the same. They have problems, issues and shit. We’re all human at the end of the day and we get what comes with that. I take care of myself and everything works out. If the cops are involved, usually shit goes bad fast.”
Sarah went on to tell him a little about herself and how she only really trusted Parkman over the years, who, by the way, she still had to get a hold of.
Aaron got them both a coffee as they talked. He explained what happened to his sister a year ago and how the police didn’t seem to take it seriously. Once he started his own investigation, he got pulled into the Specter’s sights.
“Who’s the Specter?” Sarah asked.
“That was the name the media gave Clive Baron, the man my friends and I ended up killing.”
It was Sarah’s turn to raise her eyebrows in surprise. She sat back in her chair and sipped her coffee with renewed admiration for Aaron. “Is that related to the charges you were brought up on?”
“No, that’s something entirely different.”
“Really?” she said as she set the coffee cup on his desk. “Do tell.”
“It was a student of mine. He’d been learning martial arts to h
urt people. He beat his wife and daughter, hospitalizing them. His daughter came to see me. Broke my heart. When John showed up for his next class, I ended up making an example of him. I went too far. He was in a coma for bit and then when he woke, he refused to press charges against me. Everything went away.”
