Prophecy: Rapture

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Prophecy: Rapture Page 7

by Brenna Lyons


  Eric pulled away. “Against your own?”

  Stacie’s face burned in fury. “He just killed one of his own. I could have handed you over several times already. You trust him, but not me. Why?”

  “Why do you want to do this?”

  “What?”

  “Just tell me. Convince me,” Eric challenged.

  “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be sterile, clean.” She glanced back at Joe and Kyla over Gram’s body. “They weren’t supposed to be like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “That. Loving, accepting, funny. They’re not hurting anyone. Are they?”

  “What about all the stuff Kyla overheard from you?”

  “When?”

  “Friday at about noon.”

  Stacie blushed deeply. “I think I had a royal hangover.”

  “Really?” Eric laughed.

  “Have some faith.” Stacie smiled at him.

  Harris stood up and put out his hand toward Eric. “My gun? I’m a little old for hand to hand combat.”

  Eric raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I can see that.”

  Harris started to protest, then blushed and regarded him sheepishly. “Yeah, well she surprised me.”

  Eric glanced at Kyla and Joe. “She surprises a lot of us. Okay, that makes five of us against nine of them.”

  Harris started depositing clips in his pockets. “Seven for us,” he corrected Eric.

  “How do you figure that?”

  “You took out Blake, but I still have Cason and Timms.”

  “Will they help us?” Eric asked.

  “No, but they’ll help me. Just keep it quiet about her getting the drop on me, or they might forget I’m the boss. Get me Blake’s radio, and I’ll handle the rest.” Harris hesitated and stared back at Joe and Kyla. “What about him?” he asked.

  Eric smiled widely. “He’s doing his job.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Nine am—ten am

  Harris whipped his men into gear.

  Joe got Eric’s help to move the priests and Kyla into a room closer to the center of the building, away from windows and from their dead comrades. Kyla clung to Joe for a long time, and he carried her to their new destination.

  He cleaned the blood from her hands. It was undoubtedly a bad reminder for her.

  Harris tried to offer his assistance during the move, but Joe refused. Eric could run this part of the operation any way he liked as long as Kyla came out safe, but Joe still had a real problem with handing Harris guns and ammo and letting him run free.

  For one thing, Joe still had a score to settle with him. For another, he didn’t trust Harris. But Joe would be the first to admit they needed him long enough to take care of the other pack of wolves headed their way.

  Joe suggested that Eric and Harris might want to take the operations somewhere away from Kyla. Eric knew he meant that Joe didn’t want Harris around, so Stacie stayed to guard their backs, and Harris went off with Eric.

  Finally, Harris did the one thing Joe did appreciate. He brought food and drinks for Kyla. Joe didn’t thank the other man, but he did nod his acceptance over her head.

  The food and drinks recharged Kyla’s batteries a bit. She sat, wrapped in his arms and much calmer. Kyla tried not to wince when Joe moved his hands or shifted his weight, but she hurt everywhere. The effect wasn’t lost on him.

  “If Harris survives this, I may kill him after all,” Joe muttered.

  Kyla smiled at the sentiment. “Where’s my present?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “You said you were bringing me a present, right?”

  Joe blushed, then smiled at her. He dug in his front pocket. “This wasn’t quite what I envisioned, but if you insist...” He produced a small diamond ring and held it up for Kyla to see. “I wasn’t kidding about the next fifty or sixty years. If you’ll have me, I want a lifetime contract.”

  Kyla was silent for several minutes. “You’re sure? I want you to be absolutely sure before you do this.”

  “I can’t picture life without you. At this rate, we may have to live it on the run, but I want to live it together either way.”

  “That adds a whole new verse to the marriage vows, doesn’t it?” She hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “For better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, at home or on the lam, with rifles, and handguns, and hired killers. The whole enchilada. Yes.”

  Joe laughed in relief. “I don’t suppose we could get those two statues over there to do the ceremony for us.” He put the ring on her finger.

  “Wouldn’t be legally binding.”

  “Legal isn’t what I care about.”

  “Yeah, but them? Why don’t we just make our promises? I don’t need a priest as my go-between.”

  Bishop Brian spoke up. “Actually, we sign off as the officiator in a legal sense, but we’re really a cross between a witness and a master of ceremonies. The marriage contract is between the two of you.”

  Joe stared at him. “He talks. So, what is your story, Bishop? Do you intend to make us live life on the lam or what?”

  “No, my heart hasn’t been in this for a long time. I realized the first night, but I guess I was never really sure how to make things right or if I could ever make things right—”

  “Winning can’t be that easy.”

  “It’s not. I’ve never been your real enemy. I’m no better than a hired thug like Harris. Worse actually, since I should have known better in the first place.”

  “Who is our enemy?” Joe asked.

  “His name is Archbishop Peter Jessup. None of us would have been here today, except Anderson, unless Jessup forced us. None of us wanted mixed up in this again. That really is the truth.”

  “Who else?”

  “No one that I know of. He tried to get the Church to take action when he saw it—her coming. No one listened except Anderson and me.”

  “Then how did he finance all of this?”

  “Jessup has money.”

  “But...I thought they took a vow or something,” Joe commented in confusion.

  Kyla sighed. “Poverty? Only nuns take that, and they can have anything as long as they distribute it among their sisters. But priests don’t take that vow. Good old misogynistic Paul at work.”

  “She’s right,” the bishop answered. “There are very few hard and fast rules for priests.”

  “Well, I know they’re not supposed to kill people,” Joe decided.

  The bishop sighed. “No, but some people manage to convince themselves that if they’re doing God’s work, any atrocities are forgiven even as they are committed.”

  “People like Jessup and Howard?”

  He nodded. “But Jessup knew about my doubts. That’s why he saddled me with more of his hired hands and my young keeper here.” He motioned to the priest at his right side.

  The younger man laughed heartily. “Well, he picked the wrong ally. I may be headstrong, but I make my own decisions, and I’ll be damned before I support someone killing Little Kyla Keating. Not likely. Those were the last words you ever spoke to me. Right, Kyla?”

  She squinted at the priest. “I thought I recognized you, but I wasn’t sure. Father O’Shea?”

  O’Shea smiled. “It’s been almost six years, if I remember correctly, but even in your condition, I’d know you. You haven’t changed much, you know.”

  Kyla groaned. “I suppose when you reach maturity at ten, there’s not much to change.”

  “As I recall, your father was quite upset about that fact.” He became very serious. “When— How did he die?”

  * * *

  For a moment, Kyla was confused. Then, she replayed the conversation in her head. “No, not the Keatings. They didn’t tell you much, did they?”

  “Just that I was to excise a militant defamator of the Church. Then I got here and saw the baby I baptized, gave communion and confession to, even saw confirme
d. Of course, you were always a bit of a devil’s advocate, but that’s why you won all the awards you did.” He grinned widely.

  Kyla rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

  “You were confirmed?” Joe teased.

  Kyla gave him a dirty look.

  “Hey Father, you gave her confession? What did she say in there?”

  She elbowed Joe in the ribs. “He’s not allowed to tell. Besides, I don’t believe in confession as a sacrament.”

  “Just out of curiosity, do we have any enemies left? You seem to know the whole Roman Catholic Church.”

  Bishop Brian was the serious one in the group. “The ones outside the door come immediately to mind.”

  Father O’Shea wasn’t done with his inquiry yet. “So, back to these dead parents,” he reminded them.

  Bishop Brian took the mantle on that one. “She means her real family, don’t you?”

  Kyla nodded her agreement.

  “Twenty-two years ago, Jessup pulled me aside. He told me the same things he told you. Convincing, huh?

  “Then he told me more. The destroyer wasn’t born yet. She would cause many deaths and downfall within the Church. In effect, he gave me the old hypothetical question about being able to stop Hitler by killing him as a child. He made it sound so reasonable.”

  Brian sighed, then continued. “I was supposed to be an observer. I didn’t know what to expect. I suppose I thought we would somehow excise the child without harming anyone else. It would be— What did that woman call it? Sterile.

  “I found myself in the middle of a massacre. Jessup’s hired guns ambushed a young couple in a clearing and started shooting.” He looked at Kyla. “I am sorry. I had no idea that was the plan. I tried arguing with them.”

  Kyla nodded. “Yes, I know. Heather appreciated that.”

  The bishop swallowed, his eyes wide, and continued. “Then...something happened. A tornado blew up. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. We were all thrown around. By the time it cleared, we heard people coming our way. We had to clear out fast.”

  O’Shea broke in, a horrified look on his face. “She was born at Mercy the same night as the Keatings’ baby, and the old woman who was with her switched them in the nursery?”

  Kyla nodded.

  “What happened to their baby?”

  Kyla could tell he already knew the answer by his expression. A sick tinge marked his face, as Bishop Brian started speaking.

  “Jessup ordered...” He hesitated. “I shouldn’t have, but I did.”

  O’Shea looked at Kyla. “Do they know?” he asked.

  “I think she always did on some level, but I don’t think Dad ever cared. He saw me as a gift.”

  “That explains a lot.”

  Joe intervened. “Bishop? Why don’t you tell us about the wolf?”

  The bishop’s face went an unhealthy shade of gray. “You know about the wolf?”

  Joe nodded.

  Bishop Brian unbuttoned his left cuff and pushed it up to his elbow. The scar reached from his wrist halfway to the elbow. “I thought it was a trick. I only wanted to help. Honestly.”

  “Did you get branded, too?” Joe asked.

  “You mean the handprint, don’t you? How do you know all this?”

  Joe unbuttoned his shirt and showed the priests the silvery outline of the small hand, which was still barely visible on his chest. “I think we’re alike, you and I.”

  “How?”

  “I think we’re both meant to protect her. That’s why we were pushed away. She protected us.”

  “But it’s too late, isn’t it?” the bishop asked.

  “You never know. After all, you could have easily been killed that night. Why keep you alive unless you were being given a second chance?”

  “A second chance at which goal?” he asked.

  Joe shrugged. “That’s your choice. What choice does your heart tell you to make?”

  “What about the wolf?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it was a punishment for what you tried to do. Maybe it was a self-defense system you set off by going too close for her comfort. It’s hard to say. We’re not even sure who you were dealing with at that moment.”

  “I think I know how...” the bishop said.

  * * *

  Eric and Harris found they had a decent banter. They spent several minutes discussing their assets and liabilities.

  They were in a fairly fortified building, but there was a lot more glass than they were comfortable with, which negated the purpose of a fortified building. There were too many places for Cole and his men to come in.

  They did have the tunnels and a map. That could prove useful if they decided they needed it. Eric would rather it ended here, if not for himself, then for Kyla and Joe. They deserved a normal life, and Harris admitted that Kyla might not want to rush into the tunnels after her last time in there.

  They were secluded, which meant it was unlikely that anyone would hear the gunshots or decide to report them. If someone did call the police, they all had a lot of explaining to do.

  They had the cell phone, but without Gram and Howard as contacts, they had no way to reach reinforcements. It was unlikely that any of their cohorts had realized something was wrong, so they wouldn’t be scanning the radio, listening for a message from Joe or Eric. They could send Jason physically for help, but that would tip the scales further in Cole’s favor in the interim.

  They had water and power, but only enough food to last them the day.

  They were outnumbered seven to nine, and Cole probably had the ability to get reinforcements and ammunition.

  All told, they had ten handguns, twenty-four clips, two shotguns with two boxes of ammo, plus whatever Liz had packed in her truck. The few weapons they’d left in their own truck were effectively out of reach.

  They were outgunned, outmanned, and unable to affect a siege situation.

  One thing they had in their favor was that most of Cole’s men were likely to be more like Howard than like Harris, though Harris recognized Tim Simmons’s name immediately. Harris smiled crookedly. Simmons was good. He simply wasn’t the best.

  The two men grinned at each other. “There’s nothing like a challenge to add zest to your life,” Eric joked.

  “What do you get from your eyes?” Harris asked.

  “They have most of their people at the east entrance, gearing up.”

  He nodded. “I’ll tell Timms to move from the south to the east. That side is pretty tight.”

  Eric laughed. “Where do you think we came in?”

  Harris scowled. “Where was Blake?”

  “Two hallways from that chapel when Stacie found him.”

  “Can you show me?” he asked urgently.

  “Sure. Why?”

  “What was he doing up at the northwest corner when he should have been in the rear? This doesn’t bode well.”

  Eric nodded. He radioed Joe while Harris radioed back to Timms.

  “What’s up?” Joe asked.

  Eric was relieved that he sounded so relaxed. “Keep your eyes open. We think Blake is helping the enemy,” Eric warned him.

  “I thought Blake was out of the picture?”

  “He may already have done his damage before we got him. How’s Kyla?”

  “Married,” Joe answered with a laugh.

  “What?”

  “Well, not legally of course, but I figured we had a ring, a priest, and a bride. Why not?”

  “Congratulations, guys. Keep your head down. I want to be an uncle someday. Besides, what is legal around here?”

  * * *

  Timms and Cason had the east corridor. In their favor, Cole’s men had to cross the open expanse of lawn to get to the door with little or no cover. They also had the advantage of height from the stairwell and second floor windows.

  “Two of us against six of them? And they have rifles?” Cason questioned. “Not good.”

  “Tactically, this is very good. Besides, we might hav
e two in the woods, if we can trust them to help us. I wish we knew where they were.”

  * * *

  Jason kept an eye on the crew staged to the east, while Liz moved as close as she could get to the three at the northwest corner of the lot. She got settled on a perch fairly easily. They didn’t seem to think anyone could possibly know they were there, so they weren’t watching for a tail.

  As she surveyed the men gearing up, she was struck again by how odd the place they had chosen was. If they planned on going in, they were far away from any usable entrance. The doors closest to them were halfway and three-quarters of the way down the sides they stood between.

  She radioed Eric. “They’re moving on this side.”

  “To what door?” he asked.

  “No door. They’re moving right at the corner of the building. They plan on breaking a window or what?”

  “Or what, I’m sure.” Eric used one of Kyla’s favorite phrases, and Liz smiled. “We’re almost there.”

  Liz looked through the scope on her rifle. She could pick them off from here. She could probably get two before they figured out where she was and the rest came running. But she could take out Cole and Simmons, at least.

  Suddenly, she caught sight of a movement at the edge of her scope. A piece of red cloth fluttered in the breeze from one of the windows.

  She hit the send button. “Eric, they aren’t breaking shit. They have a flag up. Someone is letting them in. Stacie again? Should I take them down?”

  “No and no. We already got their inside man, and I have something better in mind. Which window are they headed for?” he asked.

  “North side, second from the west corner. They’re halfway across.”

  “Thanks, Liz. If they come back out or head for their cars on your side, they’re yours.”

  Liz adjusted her hold on the rifle. “My pleasure.”

  * * *

  Simmons moved across the wide strip of lawn. They knew there was a possibility of this. Simmons had warned Cole about it.

  They also knew Blake wouldn’t have an opportunity to let them know where he was. Finding Blake was their job, but he could give them a way in and assist them once they got there. Blake had done his job so far.

 

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