by CW Johnson
Under normal conditions, the fuse at the power supply would immediately burn up and break the circuit, but this fuse was a thirty-amp automobile fuse incorrectly installed to replace a blown half amp fuse.
As the current continued to flow unabated, the coils in the video machine’s transformer started heating up like a filament and quickly began shorting out. The amperage soared upwards of twenty amps but the old heating element in the crock-pot created just enough resistance to avoid a dead short. What was left of the coils in the video machine’s power supply was starting to glow red-hot.
“Damn it!” Sarah Vasso cursed as her computer went down. “Every time. Of course, I didn’t save a thing!”
“You smell smoke?” someone hollered from one of the back offices.
By then, the housing that enclosed the videotape power supply was glowing red. One of the lead wires feeding the primary side of the transformer finally melted, effectively shutting off the power, but it was too late. The videotape that had since ground to a stop began to buckle and wilt. Thirty seconds later, the incriminating tape was nothing more than a melted, gooey heap of plastic.
~~~
The bank manager looked up. “Do you smell smoke?”
Michael smiled. “Now that you mention it, yes Brian, I do smell smoke.”
~~~
Down in the electrical room, Barney was getting nervous. The moment he pulled the white wire out, weird things began to happen. At first, one of those black switch things clicked real loud and then another one started buzzing. He decided two minutes were up and jabbed the wire back into the neutral bar. A blue spark flashed, causing him to jump back.
“What the hell?”
He gingerly poked at the bar with the screwdriver until he decided it was safe and quickly tightened the screw.
Scarcely managing to put the dead front and panel cover back on, Barney became aware of a commotion going on upstairs. Stepping out of the door, he heard someone yell, “I smell fire!” He walked up the stairs just as someone else yelled, “it’s in the back, the security video machine. It’s smoking like crazy!” No one seemed to notice Barney clank and clatter his way out the front door.
~~~
In the manager’s office, Brian Mines jumped to his feet and ran into the back room where the secure box containing the video machine sat smoking.
“The fire department is on the phone, Mr. Mines,” an employee said. “They’re getting an alarm. They want to know if it’s legit.”
“Are they on their way yet?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Is anything on fire?”
“No, nothing’s on fire.”
“I don’t think we need the fire department,” the manager said. “It’s obviously over. I don’t think it’s too smoky out in the front. Let’s just get a fan or something and blow the smoke out the window.”
He turned and walked back into his office where Michael sat waiting. “How did you do that?”
“I told you, Brian, I’ll take care of your problem if you take care of mine.”
Brian turned, closed his door, and pulled a handkerchief from his shirt pocket. “Okay,” he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead, “You have my attention. What is it you want me to do for you?”
Michael smiled and threw his feet on top of the bank manager’s desk. “Brian…does the East Rutherford Operations Center mean anything to you? I think you fellas call it the EROC.”
The bank manager nodded slightly.
Michael continued. “I think that’s the place where they scan the bar-coded identification numbers of each container of currency and its seal into the computer system you folks call the CPMS. Isn’t that where they keep track of each container and its depositing bank? I don’t know, I’m just guessing here.”
Brian nodded again mechanically. He already knew where this was going, but he was busy wondering how this young man could possibly know about Hanna. How did he know about EROC, and how the hell did he manage to destroy a security tape while it was still in the machine?
“I’ll get right to the point,” Michael continued. “I have this money. It’s a little tattered and worn, and I’ll be truthful with you Brian, it’s a little suspect. Trouble is, I really need it now. It’s not that big of a problem because at EROC, unfit currency is directed automatically to one end of the currency processor. That’s where all the old money is shredded, am I right? So it occurred to me, if I had a friend in the banking business, he could trade my old money for new, distribute it evenly with other worn out bills and send it off to EROC. They would destroy it, none the wiser, and send the brand new replacement money right back here. What do you think?”
“You want me to launder money for you.” Brian said. “How much money are we talking about?”
“Thirty thousand.”
Brian raised his eyebrows. “Thirty thousand, that’s it?”
“Well,” Michael said, shrugging, “it’s a start.”
“And what will you do for me?”
“I’ll see to it that the body of a little girl will never be found.”
Brian slumped and sat down. “How do I know you won’t be back?”
“I give you my word.”
Brian had no choice but to trust him. “Do you have the money with you now?”
Michael reached under his jacket, pulled out the old Wells Fargo bag, and tossed it on the table.
Brian poured out the draggled hundred dollar bills and counted them. “Whom should I make the check out to?” he said.
“Make it out to…Michael Brothers.”
Brian cut a personal check to Michael Brothers for $30,000. “Take this to Raylene at the counter. She’ll cash it for you.”
~~~
Blaze and Jim entered the lobby of one of the many buildings that made up the sprawling Vanderbilt Medical School.
“Hello, Father Jenkins,” a pretty young girl wearing a business suit said as the two approached. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“This is my friend, Dr. James Donahue,” Blaze said.
The girl beamed a smile in Jim’s direction. “I know.”
“And you are?” Jim said, offering his hand.
“My name is Robyn Harding. I’m your escort. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you during your stay.”
She turned and motioned toward the elevator. “If you gentleman would be kind enough to follow me, we have some folks who are very eager to see you.”
When the elevator stopped, the three stepped out into a broad, empty hall. They turned left and made their way through two large double doors.
“Are you a student here?” Jim said, his voice echoing.
“I’m a fourth-year medical student,” the girl said. “I can’t tell you how excited I am to be involved in the project.”
“The project?”
Robyn smiled at Jim, turned and continued walking.
A quick right took them through a hall leading to a set of doors labeled ‘conference room D’. As they stepped into the spacious room, Jim pulled to a stop. The room contained multiple rows of long, strategically placed tables, flanked by grey metallic folding chairs. Every chair was occupied.
As the three entered, every head in the room turned to greet them. Those who were sitting stood, joining those who were not, and offered a thunderous round of applause. Blaze immediately fell into character, shaking hands and slapping backs. Jim stood back, overwhelmed by the sudden attention. Blaze quickly returned and pulled Jim into the adoring crowd, where the introductions began.
“Jim,” Blaze said, “this is Senator Cole Bentley and his lovely wife, Juanita. Senator, Mrs. Bentley, my friend, Dr. James Donahue.”
Jim self-consciously smiled and offered his hand.
“Father Randall Millyard, this is my friend, Dr. Donahue.”
“A pleasure to meet you, sir,” Millyard said.
“And this is the Honorable—”
“Justice Madsen,” Jim said, finishing Bl
aze's introduction, “I’m humbled, sir.”
“No, I assure you young man…the honor is mine.”
Jim and Blaze made their way around the room meeting celebrities and dignitaries, each one seemingly more distinguished than the last, when both of them stopped mid-step. Between Bishop Hickie and Professor Tanner Cook sat Dr. and Mrs. Victor Perez.
“Victor?” Jim exclaimed.
“Yes, well,” Dr. Perez said as he poked at his glasses, “I suppose you can say I…had a change of heart.”
“And that’s a wonderful bit of news,” Blaze said.
When the introductions were over, Blaze and Jim were offered seats near the head of one of the center tables. A small stage had been set up and a program quickly began. Dr. Stephanie Wells took the mike.
“Ladies and gentleman, it’s truly an honor to be present at this tremendous occasion and to be standing here in the presence of such a distinguished and celebrated group. We knew from the beginning, that in order to insure success, we would first of all be facing the daunting task of recruiting the world’s finest and brightest scientific minds. I’m proud to report that through the efforts of Father Sterling Jenkins—some of us know him as Professor Jenkins—we have achieved that goal.”
The crowd responded with long thunderous applause. Wells held her hand up, signaling for the applause to fade.
“Heading up the team in the field of bioengineering will be the renowned Nobel Laureate, Dr. James Donahue.”
Applause rocked the room as Wells motioned for Jim to stand. When the ovation subsided, Wells continued.
“Heading up the team in the field of in-vitro fertilization, will be the equally distinguished Dr. Victor Perez.”
Applause reverberated again as Perez stood.
“The medical team will be under the direction of our renowned colleague, Dr. Raymond Yates.”
Wells continued introducing each team until all had been properly recognized. Then she asked them all to stand for one final enthusiastic ovation. When the crowd had quieted, she continued.
“The conversations I shared with many of you just prior to this meeting left very little doubt as to where the bulk of your curiosity lies.” She paused a moment as the crowd appeared to lean forward. “It is my extreme pleasure to announce that our host has finally been selected—the procedure can begin.”
The crowd leapt to their feet and began cheering wildly. Jim found himself caught up in the excitement. The fervor subsided and Wells continued.
“The child’s biological roots are Jewish, As a result, the Surrogate is also Jewish, as was requested.” The doctor paused and looked out over the audience. She waited for the crowd to become completely quiet before she continued.
“Thousands of years ago, God the Father spoke to Job, and two years ago Job spoke to us. God’s instructions were clear. We have been instructed to write the final chapter of both the Old and the New Testaments and bring about the second coming of Christ. Ladies and gentlemen, it has already begun. I’m here to tell you—the Lamb will be renewed, and in our day, because of you. His blood shall indeed renew him.”
The crowd erupted. Jim found himself wildly applauding. He looked in Blaze’s direction but in the mayhem, Blaze had moved away. Spotting him, Jim made his way through the pandemonium until he was finally standing by his side. Blaze stood, towering over everyone, banging his huge hands together as tears flowed down his cheeks.
“This is big, isn’t it Blaze?” Jim screamed over the bedlam. Blaze looked down at his old friend and hollered.
“The biggest of the big, Jimmy boy, the biggest of the big!”
~~~
Barney had calmly left the bank and moved toward the back alley as quickly as the heavy tool belt would allow. He found Pete, vigilantly standing guard.
“Where’s Brother Michael?” Barney said, expecting to hear an alarm go off at any moment.
“H-he went in a wh-while ago. Didn’t y-you see him?”
“I didn’t see nobody.”
Barney pulled the tools and shirt off and tossed them under a nearby juniper shrub. “I say we get out of here. I’m not sure, but I think something went wrong. Matter of fact--” he paused, staring out into the day.
“What?” Pete said, furrowing his brows.
“It just now hit me. What if that whole wire thing was just a trick to keep us busy while Brother Mich—while the Jesus guy robbed the bank and took off leaving us here to take the blame?”
“Brother M-Michael wouldn’t do th-that,” Pete said. “He’s s-still in there!”
“How do you know?” Barney said, a little surprised at Pete’s sudden boldness. “You been standing here in the back all this time like an idiot. Besides, even if he was still in there, we don’t owe him nothin’.”
“W-well, I don’t c-care. I’m stayin’, least ‘till he c-comes out.”
“Fine!” Barney said, walking away. “I’m out!” He quickly made his way back out into the parking lot. Once he hit the street, he began walking northward as fast as he dared, trying not to attract attention. That friggin’ Pete he thought—what an idiot. We had a good thing going until that Jesus guy went psycho.
As he walked, he was surprised by the loneliness slowly enveloping him. He’d never had a real family and he was usually able to avoid any kind of emotional attachments, but Pete was different. Four years earlier, he had drifted from Missouri into Nashville and Pete was the first person he met. Since then, they practically hung out together all the time. Sure he was a dipstick, but Barney kind of liked Pete right from the start. He seemed to know his place. A lot of guys didn’t understand things like that but Pete knew. That is, until now. Now, Pete was pushing back and standing.
Some of the best times the two of them had were when they were bucking the Jesus guy. Now all of a sudden the friggin’ dude was in charge. What was the story with him, anyway? What had happened to him? One minute, he was a retard, and then the next, he was friggin’ Einstein. How did he get that big guy to give him his tools and…
That’s it, he told himself out loud. That big guy and him were in on this thing together. It was all so obvious he couldn’t believe he’d been so easily played.
He finally found Sixteenth Avenue and turned south, moving toward Music Row. It was getting late. He realized he was bone-tired and hungry. Slowly, he made his way back toward the hut by the barges where he planned to drum up something to eat and call it a night. He moved off the road, found his way through the thick foliage surrounding the Cumberland River and quickly located their overturned dumpster by the barges. Once there, he dug around until he found some old stale bread and began choking it down.
If it hadn’t been for the Jesus guy, he thought, I’d have scrounged up something to eat a long time ago.
Chapter Three
Revelations 12:9 And the great dragon was thrown down, that old serpent called the Devil and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world; he was cast out unto the Earth and his angels were cast out with him.
KJV
Edward Selander first professed to be a Christian in 1973. He attended church regularly the first few years, but became disillusioned and began to fall away from the traditional Christian teachings. In 1977, he began a pilgrimage to find “the one true church.” After a “long and arduous search” he found that virtually all of the earth’s religions were “abominations in the eyes of God.” In 1979, he ordained himself a minister, declared himself a Prophet of God, and founded the Church of the End Times. His new religion had a pretty good run in the early 1980s, but quickly dwindled and died by the end of the decade.
When his church failed, Edward made himself a recluse and withdrew into the woods of Tennessee where he had planned to live out a solitary life. The mailman found him lying in the middle of a dirt road two miles from his shack. He was rushed to the nearest hospital in Franklin, where he lay in a deep coma. It had been determined that he’d been bitten by a rabid raccoon.
As Edward progressed deeper into the ra
vages of the disease, he was moved to John the Baptist Hospital in Nashville where modern medical intervention made it possible for him to linger for two more agonizing months.
Nurse Nicole Pangos adjusted his ventilator and checked his pupils. They were fully dilated, showing no brain activity whatsoever. That was to be expected. The virus had ravaged his brain tissue until there was little left. For all intents and purposes, Edward Selander no longer had a brain. In fact, a machine was beating his heart and another was breathing for him. He was dead, if not clinically.
Nurse Pangos began giving Edward his daily sponge bath. Lifting his frail chest high off the bed, she untied the light blue hospital smock, pulled it down to his waist and began washing his chest and arms. Edward’s legs began to quake. Nurse Pangos backed away, let the seizure run its course, and continued washing. She pulled his respirator off long enough to lift his upper torso, allowing her access to his back. She scrubbed hard, paying close attention to the reddening patches developing around his shoulder blades and hipbones. Satisfied he was clean, she laid him back on the bed and moved to his legs.
Pulling the covers down past Edward’s feet, she lifted the smock allowing her access to his upper thighs. She had just resumed scrubbing when she felt his legs began to tremble. This time she paid little attention. She was running late and there were other patients who needed to be bathed. She had begun curiously inspecting the bite mark still clearly visible just above his right knee when she became aware of an odd sensation—a stirring near her right ear. She felt something warm… air, breath—hot, putrid breath—blowing on her right cheek. She turned and all but collided noses with a face, its black pupil-filled eyes inches from her own.
~~~
Nurse Wright heard the terrified screaming all the way back at the nurse’s station. Unsure of where the screams were coming from, she jumped from behind the desk and began sprinting down the hall. Within seconds, she pinpointed the room and burst through Edward Selander’s door. From her immediate vantage point she could see wild-eyed Nurse Pangos crouching in the corner of the room still shrieking.
Rounding the corner, Nurse Wright skidded to a stop. To her horror, Selander’s body was sitting stiffly upright on the bed. A scream exploded from deep within her as she saw his dead eyes stare blankly at the hysterical nurse Pangos. Then his long dead, atrophied neck muscles began responding to his non-existent brain. Slowly, the head began turning towards Nurse Wright. The grisly black eyes, void of life, mechanically moved with the head until the ghastly face came full around and fixed a terrifying stare in the direction of Nurse Wright. Thick spit slowly oozed from the chin, hanging haphazardly from the contorted face.