The Devil's Game

by Daniel Patterson

  Daniel hesitated, but then he nodded.

  “Daniel, focus. Can you do that for me now? Can you?”

  Daniel reached a shaking hand toward the mess of wires coming from the timer.

  Suddenly he screamed like a wild animal, dropped to the floor and began shaking all over.

  James rushed to his side and grabbed the hand holding the trigger and tried to pry it off the device. Either Daniel was convulsing too hard to unclench his fingers or he was fighting to still hold onto the mechanism. James didn’t know which. But all he could do was hold tightly to Daniel’s hand and keep his fingers off the button.

  “Daniel!” James yelled. “Daniel, stop this! You have to disarm this bomb!”

  “I can’t!” Daniel cried out. “I can’t! I want to, but . . . I . . . can’t!”

  “Then tell me what to do.” The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about what to say.

  00:28 . . .

  00:27 . . .

  He had to wonder if these were the words he had asked God to give him.

  “Blue wire! Pull . . . pull it out!” Daniel instructed him in that screechy voice.

  James looked at the timer. There was a riot of colored wires, and two were blue.

  “Which one?” he asked desperately.

  “Striped one striped one striped one—”

  Daniel continued to repeat his instructions while a vile chuckle bubbled up in his throat. James saw his eyes go flat again. And as he reached for the wire, Daniel tried to move his fingers over the trigger button.

  00:21 . . .

  “No, no Daniel, no!” James was frantic now. He couldn’t fight with Daniel, keep him from pushing the button, and disarm the device all at once. He couldn’t do it.

  00:18 . . .

  He’d lost.

  00:17 . . .

  Daniel laughed hysterically. “Mine, priest! You, all of them, every single person in this town! Every petty human soul in this town is dead!”

  00:14 . . .

  “God,” James asked desperately, “what do I do now?”

  00:13 . . .

  00:12 . . .

  00:11 . . .

  “What do I do?”

  And then Amy was reaching in past him. She grabbed the striped blue wire and yanked on it violently.

  00:09 . . .

  It snapped away from the timer.

  The timer went black.

  James was so surprised by what had just happened that he loosened his grip on Daniel.

  Daniel pulled away and got his finger on the trigger button. He pushed it and pushed it again and again.

  Daniel lay there, writhing on the floor, maniacally laughing pushing a button that no longer did anything.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  NEWS HELICOPTERS BUZZED OVERHEAD as patrol cars drove up and down the streets of Harmony. Officers using megaphones directed everyone to evacuate immediately. The Army’s explosive ordnance disposal unit from nearby Fort Drum was already on their way with explosive-sniffing dogs to expedite the search.

  Churches and school gymnasiums at the neighboring town of Oak Falls were preparing to provide temporary shelter for all Harmony residents.

  Branson stood in the middle of the street, watching it all. He had called 9-1-1 from his church as soon as James had left.

  Harmony police officers J. Colmenero and A. Rodriguez put a handcuffed Daniel into the back of a police car. He was oddly silent now. He didn’t respond to any questions anyone asked him. He stared blankly at some invisible something directly in front of his face.

  “Please God,” James asked one more time, “help him. He didn’t deserve this. Simon found some weakness in him and exploited it, I know that. You know that. Don’t let him suffer for it.”

  Officer Colmenero turned to James and said, “You’re going to need to evacuate with everyone else, Reverend. But before you go I needed to ask you again, did the guy say anything else about the other bombs? Where they were? Anything?”

  James shook his head. “No, John. He’s been doing handiwork all over town, they could be anywhere. He just said that they were all operated wirelessly by that one device.”

  John Colmenero was a member of James’ congregation. He was a good-natured man with graying hair and a serious outlook on life. He nodded as James answered him and said, “Anything else?”

  James hesitated.

  “What is it Reverend? Even the smallest detail could be helpful.”

  He couldn’t come right out and say the devil put Daniel up to this, but he had to say something. At least point John in the right direction.

  “You might want to talk to Simon Paradis, a new guy in town.”

  John looked up from his notebook. “Do you think he is involved with this somehow?”

  “I know Daniel was going to do some work for him,” James said truthfully. Maybe John would be able to learn something he couldn’t.

  “We’ll pay him a visit then. Guess we have our work cut out for us. By the way, nice job, both of you.” He tipped his police cap to Amy, who was standing next to James and then walked away to speak with a military crew that had just arrived on the scene.

  James noticed Branson as he walked up to a car driven by his wife. The men exchanged a long look that continued as he opened the door and got in. Branson nodded at James as the car pulled away, driving toward Oak Falls.

  Amy touched James’ arm. “We should leave now. They’re going to need us to help organize things in Oak Falls.”

  He turned and looked at Amy. He had almost lost her today. He didn’t know how much of the town Daniel had been prepared to kill, under Simon’s influence, but he’d probably be dead—along with the rest of Harmony—had Amy not arrived when she did. “That was quick thinking back there, but why did you come inside?” he asked. “I told Georgette to keep everyone outside.”

  She cocked her head and looked at him curiously. “You sent me a text message asking me to meet you in your office.”

  He’d never sent that message, of course. He told her as much. She pulled out her phone with a little smirk to show him that she wasn’t imagining things, but the message was gone.

  James assured her that she wasn’t going crazy and promised to one day explain. But now, they had to get out of Harmony with the rest of the townsfolk.

  PART THREE

  But evil men and impostors will grow worse and worse, deceiving and being deceived.

  — 2 Timothy 3:13 (NKJV)

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  IT WAS FORTY-EIGHT HOURS before the Army’s disposal unit personnel were satisfied that they had located all of the radio-controlled-improvised-explosive-devices (RCIEDs) that Daniel had placed. Thirteen of them, not counting the one he had strapped to his own body, had been strategically placed in a circular configuration around the most populated parts of town—the library, the gas station on Elm Street, three different residences, the post office, the high school and at the park, near the merry-go-round.

  That would have been enough to level most of the town as well as kill most of the people who lived here, all at the same time. It would have been just like the fire more than a century ago back in St. Joseph, Florida. James tried not to dwell on it. It made him sick to his stomach.

  The police had questioned Simon Paradis and he, of course, had an alibi—having lunch across town with some new friends. There was nothing at all to tie him to Daniel’s actions. The police saw him as a harmless man, new to the community and willing and eager to become part of it.

  Could he really be reading the man wrong?

  He was charming and manipulative, and then cold and calculating the next moment. A number of psychiatric disorders had similar symptoms!

  Daniel himself had been turned over to the FBI, since trying to blow up a town was a federal offence. He hadn’t spoken a word that made any sense since his arrest.

  James was sitting in Ed’s Diner again. Branson had joined him for breakfast. They were halfway through their
plates of eggs and bacon when Simon sat down at table with them.

  “Now isn’t this nice?” he said to the two of them. His smile was less crooked and more mean-spirited this morning. James couldn’t help but notice that the man’s coat was more frayed than it had been. It was unraveling at both sleeves now. A hole had worn through at his right elbow.

  “Leave,” James said to him, firmly.

  “You don’t get to order me, priest,” Simon said harshly.

  “You know he’s not a priest,” Branson said, in a clear, firm voice.

  Simon gave a dismissive wave.

  “It doesn’t matter, Branson,” James said. “Priest or pastor, I’ll stand up to him and he knows it.”

  “Bah,” Simon growled. “Whatever. I just wanted to have a little fun and you ruined it. Ruined it!”

  James gaped at him. “Fun? You tried to kill us all.”

  “I did nothing of the sort. Not that anyone can prove, anyway.” Simon shook a finger at James. “I’m just having some fun. It is kind of what I do.” His face grew darker. “But every time I try to play a game lately, you kick my pieces over.” Simon stood up, getting louder, grabbing the edge of the table. “This time, you flipped my whole game board over!”

  He heaved the table over onto its side, sending dishes, silverware, food and little sugar packets flying everywhere. James and Branson sat still and Simon stood over them, heaving in breaths of air. He scrubbed the back of one hand across his mouth.

  “What is going on here?” Henry Caringi stepped out from behind the counter, his large arms crossed over his chest, his face a mixture of worry and anger that someone would cause such a commotion in his restaurant.

  Branson smiled at Henry. “Just a little accident, Henry. No big deal. Simon here was just leaving.” He turned to Simon. “Weren’t you?”

  Simon scowled at everyone in the room and then turned back to James. “I’m done here.” He turned with a swirl of his worn coat and walked to the door. He opened it, but before he walked out he turned around again, glanced at his watch, and locked eyes on James. “But this isn’t the end.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  JAMES BEGAN THAT SUNDAY’S service by thanking his congregation for coming together as a community and helping one another during the bomb scare.

  He gazed out at the people in attendance. They were listening intently to his words and looking at him with interest. With their full attention turned on him, he began his sermon.

  “We hear a lot about Noah and the Great Flood these days. But how many of us remember the promise God made to Noah?” James asked.

  “Today I want to talk to you about that promise. A promise we need to remind ourselves of during these trying times.

  “After the Great Flood, the ark of Noah rested on the mountain of Ararat, but Noah did not allow his family to leave right away. He kept them in the ark until God spoke to him and told him that the time had come for them to leave their refuge.

  “To show his thanks, Noah built an altar and made an offering to God. And because God knew Noah’s heart was pure, He was pleased with the sacrifice.”

  James paused and stared out at the faces in front of him. Nothing compared to being able to reach the people this way, to guide them with a simple life lesson wrapped in a story.

  “In order to strengthen Noah’s courage, and to make sure he knew that He was planning good things for him, God spoke to Noah. He said, never again will a great flood come to the earth. As a sign of His promise, God said that He set the rainbow in the sky. So when you see the multi-colored bow after a fall rain remember what God said to Noah in Genesis 9:13, ‘I set My bow in the cloud, and it shall be a sign—’”

  James stopped mid sentence. Near the back, there was a particular face that had caught his attention. Someone he had hoped never to see again. Simon Paradis.

  He picked up his story where he had left off, almost as if he had meant to pause there. “‘A sign of a covenant between Me and the earth.’” It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed, but James was distracted for the rest of the morning services.

  He kept his eyes on Simon as much as he could through the service, right to the end. But all Simon did was smile benignly and nodded at everything James said.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  AFTER SERVICES, JAMES STOOD at the exit as usual, shaking hands and wishing everyone a good day. A few people stopped to talk to him briefly and there were a few invitations to lunch, which were always appreciated. This time they made him feel a tinge of guilt. He was so fortunate to be loved in his community—and blessed that he didn’t need to manipulate people to do it.

  When the last of the parishioners had filed out, James walked back into the sanctuary of the church. He liked the simplicity. It spoke of humility and austerity. There was a cross made out of rough-cut two-by-fours hanging on the wall behind the altar and two smaller ones that hung on the walls of the nave, but no other decorations.

  The skin at the back of James’ neck tingled as he found Simon there, standing with his back to James, long black hair flowing over his collar and just touching his shoulders. He stood in front of the altar and looked up at the wooden cross on the wall.

  “It’s just two sticks of wood nailed together. Not even nice wood at that. Completely worthless, really. How can that have so much meaning for people?” he said to James without taking his eyes off the cross.

  “It has little to do with what it’s made of and everything to do with what it symbolizes,” James answered.

  Simon turned then and quirked an eyebrow. “Sacrifice . . .” he said.

  “And love,” James added.

  Simon let out a loud laugh, clearly amused at the idea. “Right,” he said. “Love.”

  “‘For He so loved the world that He gave—’”

  “Blah . . . blah . . . blah . . .” interrupted Simon. “I’ve heard it all before. Just have trouble grasping the whole concept.”

  James said, “I have some time to explain it if you like.”

  “Not at all,” Simon said.

  James took a wary step closer to Simon. “I’m surprised you’re still here, Simon. There must be a reason. You seem a bit . . . conflicted?”

  “Conflicted?” A loud snort of laughter escaped from Simon. “Now, that’s rich!” he said. “I’m not conflicted at all, my boy. I know exactly what I need.”

  “Have you come to make a confession?”

  Simon sneered and walked around James until they were eye to eye. “You don’t get to hear what I know, little man. Your tiny mind wouldn’t get it. You can’t handle the truth!” The last bit came out in a fair impression of Jack Nicholson’s voice. Simon smiled as though he had made a great joke. He went to the front pew and sat himself down, his long dark coat swirling around him as he did. “I have no intention of leaving Harmony, my boy. And since you also insist on staying, I’m going to need a favor.”

  James nodded at him, trying to appear reasonable. “You’re asking me for a favor?”

  Simon spread his hands wide. “Why not? You are in the business of helping people, aren’t you? It’s what you do.”

  “I’m in the business of guiding people toward God. And away from who you claim to be.”

  The smile fell completely away from Simon’s face and the scowl that replaced it was vile and full of hatred. “Don’t go all high and mighty on me, priest. I was an angel before the filth of humanity first walked this mortal coil.”

  “I told you, I’m not a priest. I’m a pastor.” James fought to keep his feet from backing him away from Simon, but it was an effort of will to do so. If this man truly were insane, he could be dangerous, but if he really was Satan, James doubted whether a few feet’s distance would make much of a difference.

  Simon waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Pastor, priest. What’s the difference, in the long run?”

  “Quite a bit, actually. Pastors can get married and have a family, for one,” was his quick response.

 
There were at least a dozen other more significant differences, but at the heart of it, the two really were more similar than different. So why had he chosen that one example to argue with?

  Simon chuckled. “Well, well. Marriage and family, that makes all the difference in the world then, doesn’t it Pastor? I know what’s on your mind with your little friend Amy,” he leered.

  James’ feelings for Amy were pure and he refused to let even Satan ruin it for him.

  The man who might be the devil sat up straight and put his hands on his knees. “Look, I don’t ask people for favors lightly. When I do, there’s always a reason for it and always a good one.”

  “And always a price?” James guessed.

  “Of course! Of course there is. I’m a businessman, after all. I need to get paid for what I do. But really, is God any different when He asks for something? You think the apostles didn’t have to pay a price to be Jesus’ little inner circle?”

  James shook his head. “Are you comparing yourself to God?” That put the moment in perspective for him.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Simon. “I am far more powerful. I’m here, aren’t I? Where is He right now? You don’t even have an effigy of him.”

  This might be Satan, with all the power and clout that Hell gave him, or it might be just a very disagreeable man. Either way, Simon would only have power over him if he allowed.

  And he wasn’t about to allow it.

  “Leave,” he said to Simon, pointing to the double doors at the back of the church. “Now.”

  Simon’s eyebrow rose. “You haven’t even heard the favor . . .”

  “The answer is no,” James said. “To whatever it might be. Now leave!”

  A wide smile slowly spread across Simon’s lips and showed his teeth, but his eyes stayed dark and blank. He stood up and took a step toward James. “I guess that’s that, then,” he said as he stepped past James towards the exit. When he got there, he paused and said, “You know pastor, that there may come a moment in time when you regret not hearing me out.”