by Mark Romang
“We need to ask you some questions, Kyle,” Crenshaw said. Sternness pinched his eyebrows into a hard scowl. “Questions about last night,” he added.
Miller tried to remain calm. But knowing what questions he’d be asked warred against his composure. “Sure thing, Jack, fire away,” he said, and then stuffed a forkful of eggs into his mouth. He ate with forced gusto, feigning indifference.
Crenshaw nodded. “The last three nights you’ve flown Andrew Maddix, Sara Kendall, Cody Hosmer and another man into Zion Canyon. The first two nights you flew around Perdition Canyon. Last night a helicopter was spotted flying over Angels Landing.” Crenshaw looked over at Sheriff Morgan. “The Sheriff and I want to know what you and your passengers were doing trespassing on federal land.”
Miller shoved another forkful of eggs into his mouth. He chewed deliberately this time, mulling his words. His mind raced to nowhere. The eggs slid down his throat. “I could lie and you might believe me. Or I can tell you the truth and have you not believe me. How would you like me to proceed?”
Sheriff Morgan shifted in his chair. “I think I can speak for Jack when I say, there’s nothing we haven’t heard before, Mr. Miller. So I want you to speak the truth. It’s in your best interest to do so.”
Miller put his fork down. He looked steadily at the lawmen. “We’ve been hunting demons.”
Crenshaw and Morgan both chuckled. “Did you find any demons?” Crenshaw asked half-seriously.
Miller nodded. “We found at least a dozen or so fallen archangels.”
“What did you do once you found them?” Sheriff Morgan asked.
“Maddix neutralized them with the Eden sword.”
Crenshaw sighed. “Listen, Kyle, I know the last several months have been hard on you. You lost your wife, a great woman the whole town loved, but you’re speaking nonsense right now. Perhaps you need to talk with a doctor or counselor.”
“I’m not crazy, Jack. My brain is working just fine. I’m as lucid as you are.”
“Okay. You were hunting demons. How were you going about this? And what is the ‘Eden sword’ you mentioned?”
“I flew the team up to Perdition Canyon. Maddix, Sara, and Coleton Webb fast-roped onto the canyon rim. They then rappelled into the canyon. Once on the canyon bottom, Sara and Webb used flamethrowers to herd the demons. Maddix neutralized the demons with the sword. The Eden sword is the flaming sword mentioned in Genesis, the sword that prevented Adam and Eve from eating from the Tree of Life.”
“How did Maddix acquire the Eden sword?” Morgan asked, trying hard not to laugh.
“The angel, Gabriel, gave it to him.”
“You guys took flamethrowers and a flaming sword into perhaps the driest and most beautiful land in the state? Why would you do such a thing?” Crenshaw asked.
Miller nodded sheepishly. “After the exorcism at the church, the demons fled into the slot canyons. Trust me, Jack; we were very careful not to catch anything on fire. No harm was done to the park.”
Sheriff Morgan looked at Crenshaw. “Did you know we had a demon problem in Zion National Park?”
Crenshaw didn’t answer the sheriff. “Where is Andrew Maddix now? He’s not at his apartment or the church. We would like to talk to him.”
“He went after Coleton Webb. Webb stole the Eden sword during the battle atop Angels Landing. He somehow got the sword away from Maddix and then base-jumped. Sara went with Maddix to help find Webb.”
Sheriff Morgan leaned forward. His droopy eyes bore into Miller. “Do you know where Maddix and Sara headed to?”
Miller shivered inside his skin. “St. George, I think. Or maybe it was Washington. I can’t remember,” he lied. At least I told them a partial truth, he thought. Miller hated dishonesty. He could still remember a harsh spanking he received from his father for fibbing about a math grade.
“And Sara went with Maddix willingly?”
Miller nodded. “She loves Maddix. And she hates Webb.”
Crenshaw and Sheriff Morgan stood up. They walked swiftly toward the door. “Don’t go anywhere out of state, Kyle. We may need to talk some more,” Crenshaw said over his shoulder. The officer opened the door, and the two lawmen left Miller alone with his half-eaten eggs.
Miller pushed the plate away from him. He tented his hands and began to pray.
****
Inside the Super 8 hotel room, Coleton Webb chased away his guilt with bourbon shots. He’d been drinking for nearly three hours. After arriving in Vegas at four this morning, Webb checked into the motel and tried to rest. But sleep fled his eyes. He kept reliving all the times he’d shared with Maddix, the good times and bad times, and the scary times when they’d been on SEAL missions in foreign hotspots, not knowing if they’d make it out alive and fearful they would be captured and thrown into a squalid prison to rot.
The general public assumed SEALS were fearless. But SEALS were not superhuman. The same emotions and fears plaguing civilians flared up in them as well. And right now Webb felt scared out of his wits. The only true friend he’d ever had he just discarded like trash.
He was completely alone now.
Webb would be the first to admit he often rubbed people the wrong way. His brashness turned them off. But the cockiness was an act, a façade to cover up all his faults. Webb suffered from inadequacy, a raging monster scarier than any of the demons he’d battled in the slot canyons the last three nights.
And that’s why he felt so guilty. Maddix had shown him kindness from day one of Bud/s training. When every one else steered clear of him, Maddix took him under his wing and showed him true love. And now he traded a beautiful friendship for nothing more than cash.
Webb poured himself another shot. He drank it quickly, grimacing as the bourbon burned all the way down. If he could drown himself in alcohol he would. Only the booze couldn’t fully do the job. The liquor only blunted his guilt for betraying Maddix. Whether he wanted to or not, Webb felt empathy for Judas Iscariot—the fallen disciple who handed Jesus over to the Pharisees. They were cut from the same cloth.
Webb turned his left hand over and looked at his scarlet palm. Blisters covered his callouses. The Eden sword had left its mark, branding him forever as a traitor. His hand throbbed continuously, a painful stinging sensation pulsing without letup. He’d made a half-hearted attempt to doctor his hand, applying antibiotic cream but needed to wrap it.
Webb turned his bowed head and looked at the small clock radio on the nightstand next to the bed. Inebriation caused the red numbers to blur. At twelve-thirty p.m. he would meet with his buyer. The exchange of sword for money would take place in a foreclosed warehouse in North Las Vegas. He would net four-million dollars if he could get the sword to ignite, more than enough to pay off his creditors and save his store. His father and brothers would never know what a lousy businessman he was.
He was lucky to have found a buyer so quickly. He’d put the word out with his collector clients shortly after he saw the Eden sword for the first time. Thirty-six hours later a buyer emerged. I have to go through with it. I’ve come too far to turn back now, he thought.
Webb stood up and walked over to his unmade bed. The sheets and comforter tangled together to form a bed linen rope. The Eden sword lay at the foot of the bed. Webb studied the weapon. His powerful legs trembled. Even in the dim motel room the sword glowed. He looked at the etching on the double-edged blade. The Hebrew lettering stretched from blade tip to hilt. He could see why the demons were so intrigued by the mysterious etching. The lettering possessed an almost magnetic pull to it.
This sword probably carries a curse, he thought, diverting his eyes. I need to get rid of it before it kills me.
Chapter 41
That same moment—St. George, Utah
Sara sat at a table by a window. The table offered her the ability to see everyone who entered the diner. But her attention mainly hovered on the busy street outside. She watched the street with frequency, praying she wouldn’t see any police cars wit
h flashing lights speed by or pull up. Andrew was hopefully at the bank by now, accessing his safe deposit box.
Sara noticed movement in her periphery. She turned her head and saw a puffy-eyed, middle-aged waitress heading for her table, carrying a food tray. The waitress pulled up and set food down in front of Sara. “Here you go, honey. French toast with a side of bacon, orange juice and coffee. Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No, everything looks great. Thank-you,” Sara said. The waitress left and Sara bowed her head and closed her eyes. She prayed silently. Heavenly Father, I thank you for this food. Please keep us safe and help Andrew and I complete the task you’ve given us. Help us find Webb and get the Eden sword back into your hands. In your son’s name I ask this, Amen.
Sara poured syrup onto her French toast and dug in. Her stomach growled as she devoured the first bite. As she wolfed down her breakfast she thought over Andrew’s request to tell the police he’d kidnapped her. Even though she had promised him she would do it, she didn’t know for sure if she could go through with it. She didn’t want to add to his troubles. But she also didn’t want to go to jail either. With each bite of food, her mind waffled back and forth. Her decision would affect the rest of her life for good or bad.
The French toast gone, Sara moved on to the bacon. She dredged the bacon through the leftover syrup and popped the strips into her mouth. She was on her last bacon strip when she saw Maddix run by on the other side of the street. He ran like a gifted athlete out for a morning jog, not like a wanted man running for his life. He’s finished with the bank. Now he’s on to the used car lot.
Sara looked around for her waitress. She needed to pay and meet Maddix back in the park. She spotted the waitress and waved her over. “I’m ready for my check.”
The waitress shook her head. “I sure wish I could eat like that and stay as skinny as you. I’ll be right back with your check, honey,” she said and started to leave.
“Wait. Can you get me a doggy bag and put a couple of bagels or donuts in there, along with some juice?”
“We don’t have any bagels or donuts. But we do offer cinnamon rolls. They weigh over a pound a piece. Trust me, they’re the best around. As you can see I’ve had my share and more.”
Sara grinned. “Perfect, I’ll take two.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Sara pulled some money out of her jeans. Andrew had given her thirty bucks to use. She’d left her purse at home before they’d headed out to Angels Landing. Now she felt ill-equipped. No money, no cellphone, no makeup.
Sara glanced at her watch. Paranoia inched up her spine. The waitress seemed to be taking a long time. Maybe she knows who I am and who I’m with. Maybe she’s calling the cops right now. No, that’s silly. Word couldn’t have gotten out that fast. Settle down. Breathe in, breathe out, she told herself.
Just as she was about to hurl cash onto the table and flee out the door, her waitress came back with a food sack. “Here’s your check and here’s your cinnamon rolls, honey,” she said kindly. The waitress surprised Sara by sitting down at the table. She leaned over close. Her blue eyes misted over. “I couldn’t help but notice how tired you look and your wrinkled clothes. I’ve seen that look before. I was once homeless and lived in my car for six months. I know how it is to not know when you’re going to eat again. So I would like to pay for your breakfast, honey. Is that okay?”
Sara shook her head. “I know I look bad. And you’re right, I pulled an all-nighter. But I’m not homeless and I can pay for my food. It’s okay. Really, I’m fine.”
“Well, all right. I didn’t mean to pry. You just look troubled. And I saw you pray over your food. My heart went out to you.” The plump waitress reached over and squeezed her hand. “Whatever you’re going through, just hand it over to God. He won’t let you drown in deep water. His grip is strong.” The woman stood up. “I’ll let you go now. You take care of yourself.”
“Thank-you, I will.” Sara plunked the thirty dollars onto the table near the check and left the diner. She headed north to the park. And she walked swiftly.
****
Maddix jogged up to the used car lot and slowed to a walk. He caught his breath and looked around for a suitable car. He’d taken seven-thousand in cash out of his safe deposit box. He wanted to spend no more than three-thousand on a car. He looked around for something unobtrusive and neutral in color.
A paunchy man with slicked-back hair and gold jewelry appeared from nowhere and walked up to him. The man smelled like Brut aftershave. Maddix thought he looked like a retired mafia goon. “I saw you run up. You run real fast. But everyone needs a car to get around in. And I got a whole lot full of cars with ice cold AC. You need that around here.”
Maddix smiled. “I have three-thousand in cash on me. Give me the best car you got for that price.”
The salesman nodded. “Well, that narrows it down a bit. Do you want something big and comfy, or small and economical? By the way, I didn’t catch your name. Mine is Neal,” he said, extending a hand.
Maddix shook his hand. “The car needs to be reliable and a gas miser. And my name is David,” Maddix said, giving the salesman his middle name.
“Well, head right this way then, David,” the salesman said. He turned to his right and took off. He walked surprisingly fast for being out of shape. Maddix hurried to keep pace with him. The salesman took him to a row of compacts and small sedans. “These will get you the most mpg for your buck.”
Maddix looked them over. The cars were mostly Hondas and Toyotas. He found a silver 2001 Honda Accord in decent shape for 3,500 dollars. It had a lot of miles on it—215,000—but Maddix didn’t think twice. The ubiquitous Honda Accord possessed an impressive reputation for reliability. It also went a long ways on a tank of gas. Every time spent filling up at gas station increased the chances they’d be discovered. “Will you take 3,000 for this one?” he asked.
“David, I can’t settle for that price. I have to make a living you know. I’ll sell it to you for 3,400.”
Maddix didn’t have time to haggle. “I’ll give you 3,300 if you fill the tank,” he said as he pulled his cash wad from out his athletic pants and counted out the amount.
Neal smiled and took the cash. He counted the bills. “Congratulations, David, you just bought a car. But don’t you want to test drive it first?”
Maddix shook his head. “Does it run?”
“Yes, sir, like a deer. And it comes with a 30-day warranty.”
“Great. Get me the title, a bill of sale, and a dealer tag for the back window. I want to be on the road in less than thirty minutes.”
“I’ll get right on it. And I’ll have my mechanic gas it up. Follow me to my office.”
Maddix looked at his watch; saw that it was 9:54 AM. He had hoped to be leaving St. George by now. But hope and reality rarely meet up. Maddix knew every minute that ticked by gave Webb a better chance at liquidating the sword, and the police more time to capture him.
Maddix followed the bling-covered salesman to an office in a mobile home. He didn’t sit down at Neal’s desk when offered, but instead stood and feigned impatience. He hoped standing would hasten the paperwork process, which wouldn’t be much since he paid in cash.
The salesman placed documents into a folder and handed them to Maddix a few minutes later. “Okay, David, in the folder you’ll find your title and bill of sale. And here are the keys to your new ride,” he said, holding out the keys.
Maddix took the keys and left the mobile home. He found the Accord sitting outside the mobile home. He got in the car, started it up and left the car lot. He headed north, driving at a reasonable rate, neither speeding nor cruising too slowly. He turned up South Dixie Drive and soon pulled into the park. He saw Sara sitting in the pavilion. Maddix flashed his lights at her.
Sara jumped up and jogged over to the car. She hopped in and slammed the door shut. “Nice wheels. Plain Jane but that’s okay.”
“What’s in the bag?” Maddi
x asked.
Sara handed him the sack. “Here’s your breakfast. Sticky buns.”
Maddix smiled. “Did you just call me sticky buns?”
Sara rolled her eyes and smacked him in the shoulder. “There are cinnamon rolls in the sack. Feel free to eat them.”
Maddix handed her a prepaid smart phone he took out of his safe deposit box. “While I eat, you’re going to find Webb.”
Sara took the phone and turned it on. “Do you think Webb will actually answer his phone?”
Maddix took a bite out of a cinnamon roll. “You’re not going to call him.”
“Huh?”
“Do you see the cellphone tracker app?”
“Yeah, do I select it?”
“Yes. And then type in this number but don’t call it,” Maddix instructed. He gave her Webb’s number. He took another bite of the cinnamon roll as he watched Sara punch in Webb’s number.
“By gosh, it worked! I can’t believe how easy that was. How does it work?”
“I had to install the same app on Webb’s phone. And then I installed another app on his phone that hides the cell phone tracker app.”
Sara looked at him. “When did you install it? You must have suspected Webb might do something like this.”
“I did. The first time Webb saw the Eden sword I could tell he wanted it badly. So I installed the app on his phone when he was over at my apartment. It was the same day I demonstrated how to use the flamethrowers to you and Cody.”
“How did you get his phone away from him?”
“He left it on the coffee table when he went to use the bathroom. He was in there a long time. Webb likes to primp and preen. I had plenty of time,” Maddix said. “So where does the app say he’s at?”
“He’s in Las Vegas. 4250 Koval Lane.”
“Okay, now go to Google Earth and type in that address. Zoom in close so we can see where he’s at.”
