by Miller, Tim
“Well what’s going on Lee?” I pulled up a chair and sat across from him. “What’s bothering you?”
“There’s something dark here, Pastor Charlie. Something horrible has come to our town, to our church. I figured you were the only one I could talk to.”
I wished he would just spit it out, but that’s not how Lee operated.
“So what is it Lee? I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s really late.”
He stood up and stumbled over to table near the kitchen. He was holding his side the whole time.
“I didn’t want to come over here, but it was time I did something.”
“Did something about what?”
“About your interference with God’s work! You are an abomination!” His voice got deeper as he shouted. Moving toward me, he grew several inches taller as his face and body became a distorted, hideous mountain of rage. His forehead bulged and mouth opened to expose shark like teeth. His voice let out a guttural roar as he lunged at me. His hands grew long, sharp claws, one of which scratched the side of my face. Warm blood ran down my cheek as I tried to pull away. The attack, and his transformation, caught me off guard. I fell flat on my back. Looking up at him, he didn’t look like Lee, or any other creature I had ever seen.
I grabbed the chair and swung it at the beast. The chair shattered over its head, but had no effect. The thing grabbed my arm with its long claws as I kicked at its legs, then stomach. I made solid contact with its midsection but it was too solid. I didn’t want to risk trying my brain thing on it. It would likely chomp my hand off if I tried. One of my kicks managed to loosen its grip enough for me to pull free.
I ran into the bedroom where I had a wooden cross hanging on my wall. Figuring I had nothing else to lose, I grabbed the cross and pressed it into its chest as it ran up behind me. It pulled the cross away and crushed it to pieces. At that point, I went for the window; thankfully I lived on the first floor.
I pulled the window open and dove out head first. Before I was over halfway through, the thing grabbed my ankle and pulled me back in. I could see outside, there was no one around at all. Go figure, no cops when I needed them. Too bad they didn’t put me under surveillance. I spun around again, but this time its huge hand struck me on the side of my face again, tearing more flesh open. Then it hit me over and over along the side of the head. I became dizzier with each blow. The room began to fade as I finally got to sleep.
Chapter 29
I came to several hours later, lying on a dirty floor. There was a nasty smell in the air as I tried to make out where I was. My head was pounding and vision was a bit blurry. As it cleared up, my surroundings became more familiar. I was in a chapel, my chapel. Last thing I could remember was Lee coming over to my apartment, and then turning into some weird thing that attacked me. I wasn’t sure if that part had been a dream or what. Maybe the cops slipped me something, but that wouldn’t explain how I ended up at the chapel.
I stood slowly and noticed I was covered in blood. The only thing I had on was my dress pants, and they were soaked. I didn’t have any serious wounds, so it took me a minute to realize where it came from. Looking around, I saw Lee was hanging from the cross. He was stripped to his underwear and his stomach had been cut wide open. His insides were in a pile on the floor around him. Blood was splattered all along the walls and surrounding floor. I was never that messy when I did my work.
Before I could take it all in, I heard sirens in the distance. They were getting closer. The Bishop was setting me up. I don’t know why he didn’t just kill me. Disgracing me would have a much more dramatic effect, plus would win my church over to him for sure. Fortunately I had planned for such an emergency. There was a hidden panel in the floor where I kept a metal box. In that box was dynamite, fuses and gasoline in case there was ever a time I had to torch the place in a hurry. This was that time.
I found the panel and flipped it open; locating the box I opened it and took out three bundles of dynamite and the fuses. I attached them and placed them around the chapel. Once that was complete, I grabbed the gasoline and doused everything in the chapel. The place reeked of rotting flesh, blood, organs and now gasoline. I went back to the metal box to grab the matches, but there were none in there. The sirens were getting louder and louder as they approached. I looked all around the floor and surrounding area in case I dropped them, shaking my head. I couldn’t believe it: I planned for all this and didn’t think to leave any matches?
The sirens stopped suddenly. I knew that meant they were getting closer and wanted to approach silently. I had to blow the place; it couldn’t all end like this. The Texas justice system fried people like potatoes. Preacher or not, I would be toast if I got caught. There were some shelves along the back wall. I dug through boxes on the shelves, sorting through trash, tools and finally found an old book of matches. I ran outside and tried to light one of them, but the first few failed to light at all. The third did light, so I quickly knelt down and lit the fuse. Once I was sure it was lit, I turned and ran into the woods.
The sticks and rocks on the ground tore into my feet as I ran, but I had no choice. After almost a minute I heard the explosion. I could see the chapel go up in a ball of flames. Hopefully no evidence of me would be left. I didn’t know if any police were injured in the blast, but didn’t have time to worry about it. I still had to do something about the blood I was covered in. First thing was getting away. There were flashlights in the distance, but I had a good head start on them. I ran deeper into the woods, trying not to make too much noise in the process. I had never been in this part of the wood, but had to keep going.
After almost twenty minutes, I heard a helicopter in the distance. I hoped that wasn’t for me, but not sure how they’d find me through the darkness and trees. I had to stop and catch my breath. For some reason, the helicopter was not coming my direction at all. The flashlights were not anywhere behind me either. Perhaps they thought I died in the explosion. The Bishop was behind all this, there was no doubt. He’d used Lee to set me up, but I have no idea what that thing was Lee turned into. Had Lee been like that all along, or did the Bishop do that to him? I had a feeling it was the latter.
After a few minutes rest, I kept moving, but this time at a quick walk. The bottoms of my feet were raw and crusted with blood. After another hour of walking, I came to a clearing. There was a large field with cattle lying around. It had to be someone’s farm. There didn’t seem to be anyone following me so I walked along the edge of the property. There was a little shack a few hundred yards away. I couldn’t tell if there was anyone there or not, but had to check it out.
Making sure the coast was clear, I made a run for the shack. By the time I reached it, I felt like I would pass out. My feet were on fire and my legs felt like rubber bands. The shack wasn’t too small, but looked run down. I tried the door and pushed it open. After a few steps inside I heard someone shouting.
“Alto ahi!” A man was yelling. I turned and saw a Mexican man holding a shotgun at me. I put my hands up and gestured to him. What he yelled at me meant “Stop right there!” I only knew a little Spanish. I hoped I knew enough to keep him from shooting me.
“Estoy herido!” I said, meaning “I’m hurt.” I pointed at my feet. “Habla Ingles?” I asked as he lowered the shotgun.
“A little,” he said. “Why are you here?”
“Some men tried to hurt me. I escaped, but the police think I did something bad.”
“Policia?” he said.
“Si.”
“Come,” He gestured to me into another room. He looked like he was in his forties and wearing sweatpants and a work shirt. We walked into the kitchen where a woman stood, about his same age. She was pretty, had her dark hair pulled back and wore a men’s shirt that fit her like a dress. They both looked tired. They talked in Spanish for a few minutes, but I couldn’t make out anything they were saying. After a couple minutes, she took me into the bathroom. She cleaned off my feet and wrapped them while he stood by.
/>
“I am Roberto,” he said. “This is my wife, Esperanza.”
“Thank you both,” I said. “You work here at the ranch?”
“Si. The owners let us live here and pay us for our work. She will get you cleaned up and you can have some of my clothes. But then you must go. No policia.”
“I understand. Thank you.”
They let me shower and Esperanza dressed my feet again. After the shower, Roberto gave me a pair of jeans, a Texas Longhorn t-shirt, some socks and a pair of boots. The clothes fit mostly. Anything on my feet felt better than running around barefoot. I thanked them again and left. I saw a crucifix hanging on the wall of their living room as I stepped out. It made me wonder if they knew they had just helped save the devil himself.
Chapter 30
I left the shack and ran toward the road. There was no traffic as far as I could see. I wanted to avoid the cops, but also needed a ride. It was at least forty five minutes to an hour from my apartment by car. I wasn’t even sure it was safe to go back to my place. For all I knew, the cops were tearing the place apart. God only knew what information the Bishop gave them.
Once I reached the road, I noticed it was eerily quiet. There was no longer a sound of the helicopter, and the sirens had stopped a while ago. They must have thought I either died in the blaze, or was long gone. Either way, they didn’t seem to be searching. I was sure they had found what was left of Lee.
Poor Lee. I still wasn’t sure if he’d been that creature all along, or if the Bishop had turned him into something. I knew he was excited about the Bishop and had fallen for his whole dog and pony show. He’d mentioned the Bishop healing a cyst on his neck or something, could that have been enough for the Bishop to do something? If so, then what had he done to the other folks he’d healed?
I walked along the shoulder along the road for at least a mile. My feet and legs felt like they were filled with flaming hot needles. I had no idea what time it was, but figured it would be daylight before too long. My clothes clung to my body in the humid, sticky air. They were already soaked in my sweat. I reached a sign that said it was five miles to Seguin. I was still a long way from home, too far to go the whole way on foot. A few cars had passed, but I was afraid to try and flag anyone down.
A pickup truck came by, slowing as he saw me. If they were going to give me a ride, I had to think of a cover story as to why I was out walking at this hour. When the truck stopped, a man leaned over and spoke as he opened the passenger door.
“You all right fella?”
The man was at least in his sixties, wearing a white cowboy hat and a dark t-shirt.
“I’m okay, I guess,” I answered. “Been walking for a long time.”
“Why you way out here this late?”
“Was coming back from some friends with my girlfriend, we got in a fight and she kicked me out of the car.” It was the best I could think of in a pinch.
“Well ain’t that some shit. Hop on in. Can’t let you walk around all alone out here looking all pathetic.”
I climbed into the beat up truck as we drove off. Hopefully this guy wouldn’t ask too many questions.
“I’m Roy,” he said.
“Charlie.”
“Good to meet ya. I hope that bitch ain’t your girlfriend no more.”
“Uh yeah, not after this. I’m done with her.”
“Good for you. I been married twice, ain’t gonna be a third time.”
He was silent for a while, and then spoke up again.
“There was something big going on down the road a ways back. Looked like a fire or something. You see any of that?”
“Uh, yeah, I saw it a bit as we drove by, but we were fighting.” I hoped he would leave it at that. Instead he looked me up and down.
“Any idea what was going on?”
“Nope, sorry. I wasn’t really paying attention.”
“Kinda weird you’re out here wandering around just a few minutes from where that whole mess happened. And you don’t know nothing about it?”
I finally looked at him, hoping to reassure him long enough to get me into the city.
“No Roy, I don’t know what was going on back there. Looked like a fire, they happen all the time in the city.”
“Then why you look all beat up? Your girlfriend do that to you too?” He wasn’t going to let this go. He pulled over to the shoulder and rolled to a stop.
“I shoulda known better than to pick you up. Guess once I thought about it, I put two and two together. I don’t know what you’re into, but I want no part of it. So I think it best if you just go on your way.”
“I’m not getting out Ray. We don’t have much further to go.”
He began reaching for something with his left hand near the door. Not taking any chances, I grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed it against the steering wheel several times. The bones in his face made a loud crunching sound with each strike. He managed to pull his hand back up holding a large hunting knife. Being in Texas, I was surprised he didn’t have a gun. I grabbed the knife and thrust it into his neck. Blood filled the cab of the truck as it sprayed in all directions. Roy grabbed his throat, twitching and gurgling as the life oozed from his neck. So much for my clean clothes.
I pushed his body into the passenger seat and started the truck. I was going to have to drive home, with a dead and bloody body next to me. Thankfully none got on the windshield, most of it got on me and the seats. If I could get home while it was still dark, I wouldn’t draw any attention. It has been a long night and I could use to catch some kind of break.
The rest of the drive home was uneventful. I still had to do something with the truck. I couldn’t just park a bloody truck with a dead body at my apartment. Before I reached town, I found a spot along the river with a boat ramp. I drove the truck to the ramp and hopped out, letting it roll into the water. It sank within a few minutes. Once it was gone, I walked the rest of the way home. The sun was starting to come up along the horizon. I knew I could take a short cut through a nearby field and get to my apartment from the back way. I just had to move fast before someone saw me and my bloody clothes.
Within fifteen minutes, I was back at my apartment. I peeled off the bloody clothes and stuff them in a trash bag. Another shower was in order, to scrub Roy’s blood off of me. Once I finished, I put on clean shorts and a t-shirt. From there I stumbled into my bed room and collapsed into bed. Sleep took me before my head hit the pillow.
Chapter 31
I have no idea how long I’d slept. When I woke up, I was glad to still be alive. The last twenty four hours seemed like some kind of twisted nightmare. My eyes burned from the sun shining into my apartment. I tried to move, but every inch of my body ached. Slowly, I climbed out of bed and limped into the bathroom. Sharp needles of pain shot through my feet. I checked the bandages and saw they had come loose and were caked with dried blood. I gingerly dressed myself and headed out to the church.
When I arrived, Sandy, the church secretary was sitting behind her desk doing something on her computer.
“Pastor Charlie!” She said clicking out of whatever it was she didn’t want me to see and spinning around to look at me. “Where have you been? We’ve been worried about you. I tried your cell phone several times, but you didn’t answer.”
“Oh yes, my phone. I lost it. I have to get a new one. It’s been a hectic last few days.”
“Well I hope everything is okay. I have a few messages for you,” she pulled some sticky notes off her desk. “Mrs. Rivera is in the hospital again, this time they think it’s her heart. John and Gloria Murphy’s son was arrested again. And there was a police officer here this morning looking for you, but wouldn’t say about what.”
I was not even ready to process all of this. The only thing that jumped out at me was what she said about the police.
“Do you know who it was from the police?” I asked.
“Some guy, Stafford or something.”
“Stanton?”
&n
bsp; “Yeah, that’s it. You know him?”
“We’ve met. I’ll be in my office. I have some calls to make.”
I stepped in and closed the door. First thing I did was logged onto my computer and looked up the Bishop and his miracles. He was behind all of the chaos I’d been through last few days. There had been multiple attacks on me in one night. I had no idea what that was about. Lee could have just killed me when he knocked me out, but he didn’t for some reason. Why the whole weird set-up? Whatever he was up to, I was determined not to be caught off guard again.
I found a video on YouTube of The Bishop healing the amputee lady’s leg. I did a Google search for her name. It was Katie Ingle. Looking in some public records directories I found her address and phone number. To my surprise, I couldn’t find any interviews she had given. Many places had tried, but she didn’t give comments to anyone. I figured she’d be a good place to start. The Bishop had since raised the dead, but Katie was one of his first big miracles.
I slipped out of the office, breezing past Sandy before she could say anything. It took me almost forty minutes before I reached Katie’s home. It was a small house in the west side of the city. A large, German Shepherd startled me from behind a fence as I approached the front door. I gathered myself and knocked. An older woman answered, only opening the door enough so the chain lock would pull tight. She looked me over for a moment before she spoke.
“I take it you’re here to see Katie? She’s not doing any interviews.”
“I figured that ma’am. I want to help.”
“Like how the Bishop helped?”
“No, nothing like that. May I see her please? I just want to talk to her.”
“I told you, she’s not doing any interviews.”
“I’m not a reporter. I’m a pastor. The Bishop has tried to kill me, a couple of times. I know what he is.”