Veronica and Abby stood together in the middle of the floor. They each had a blanket wrapped around them, yet Steve could see that they both were trembling.
“What happened?” Veronica asked.
“He was here.”
“Here? You mean in the house?”
“Yes,” said Steve. He gestured with the axe. “Right there on the couch.”
“How?” asked Abby.
“I don’t know. He was disguised as Martin. I thought he was Martin. Just before I went outside to check the house, Martin had made like he was going to bed. When I came back in, he was on the couch. He looked like Martin. He was dressed like Martin. He even had Martin’s voice. But he was different.”
“Different how?” asked Veronica.
“He sat real straight up and down, on the edge of the couch. I thought it was just Martin, with a sore back or something. But then he started challenging me on why we were here.”
“What did you tell him?” asked Martin.
“Nothing really. Just that we believed that we could do some good. That was about it. By then Martin showed up—the real Martin—and that ended the conversation pretty quickly.”
“What did you do?” asked Abby.
“As soon as we figured it out, I tried to axe him, but he disappeared into thin air. He turned into smoke and shot up the chimney.”
Veronica walked to the fireplace and looked into it.
“I hadn’t even gone to sleep. I heard you talking to someone all the way from the back bedroom,” Martin explained. “The voices were muffled, but I thought maybe Biker had come back to check on us.”
“What do you think he wanted, Steve?” Abby asked.
“Wanted? I dunno. I guess he could’ve been testing our defenses, trying to find weak points.”
“Seems to me,” said Veronica, “that if he can disguise himself like one of us and waltz into a locked house without anyone noticing, he doesn’t have much to worry about when it comes to our weak points.”
“Yeah that’s true,” Steve admitted. “I dunno know then.”
“Maybe he’s just playing with us,” Veronica replied.
“Yes,” said Martin, “that sounds more like his style. We already know he’s a sadistic sonuvabitch, the way he murdered them.”
“And haunts our dreams,” Abby added.
“Change of plans then, folks,” said Steve. “From now on, we pair up. Sleeping, eating, on watch — regardless—two by two at all times.”
No one argued.
Steve sat down in the chair again and rolled his neck. He was tired. The adrenaline rush he’d had moments ago was starting to fade, and his body was coming down hard. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. They were sore, the way they always got when he didn’t get enough rest.
“Why don’t you ladies go back to sleep? Martin and I can finish this shift off out here.”
“Yeah, well,” said Veronica, “if it’s all the same to you, we’ll grab the blankets and bunk out here on the couch.”
“That’s fine.”
“Good,” said Veronica, “but I wasn’t asking for your permission.” Steve was too tired to squint up at her and see if there was a smile behind her sarcasm.
“I have a better idea,” said Martin. “Abby, you stay here with Steve. Let me help you, Veronica. We can just drag the whole mattress out here, and we’ll all bunk here.”
“Even better.”
She and Martin headed down the hall.
Abby sat down on the corner of the couch. Pulling her blanket tighter up around her, she looked at the dying embers in the fireplace. Steve stayed in the chair, eyes closed.
“Steve?”
“Yeah?” he answered.
“Are you scared?”
“Yes.”
Abby nodded to herself. “Yeah, me too. Home seems so far away right now.”
“Yeah,” he replied.
“Do you think we can beat him?” she asked.
“Being scared is okay, Abby. The important thing is that you take action even when you’re scared. That’s what makes the difference.” He moved to the couch and sat down beside her.
“How do you know that you’ll be able to do it though? When it comes down to it, I mean?” she asked.
“Well, I didn’t know until just now myself. I’ve been wondering about that these last few days. Would I have the guts to stand up to him? But as soon as I saw Preacher—when I realized it was him and not Martin— all I thought about was getting between him and you and Veronica and Martin. Didn’t think much about how to stop him, or what could happen to me for doing it. I just grabbed the axe and took a shot.” He turned the axe over in his hands.
“Sounds like textbook bravery to me,” she replied.
“No, I don’t think so. More like commitment. Biker seems pretty confident that we can beat him.”
“I wish he were here,” said Abby at the mention of Biker’s name.
“Me too, kiddo.”
Martin and Veronica returned with the blankets and mattress. After they organized a makeshift bed on the floor, Abby and Veronica scooted in under the covers, and Martin stretched out on the couch. Despite their exhaustion, Preacher’s trick filled them with fresh fear. Steve was on watch, but it was several hours before any of the others gave in to fatigue.
Chapter 42
“Steve.”
He felt pressure on his shoulder.
“Steve.”
Steve awoke to find Veronica sitting on the edge of the couch. He reached for his glasses on the arm of the couch, put them on and sat up.
“Hey there,” she said. “It’s five o’clock.”
“Right. Thanks for waking me.”
He yawned and stretched. The house was still quiet. Pink tendrils of dawning sky were just beginning to peek through the windowpanes. The night crickets were still chattering, but the day’s birds had already begun to chirp in the trees surrounding the property, intent on bringing the day to order.
“What’s the status?” he asked.
“Nothing to report. Abby and Martin are still asleep,” said Veronica, gesturing over her shoulder.
Martin lay balled up on the mattress on the floor at their feet. He had covered his head with the sheets, but his rhythmic breathing lifted them up and down like clockwork. Abby had curled up sideways in the nearby chair. Steve was jealous of how easily she could contort herself into such a small space for sleep.
“Abby stayed up with me until about midnight, talking, and then she went to bed. I didn’t want to wake her. It’s been all quiet since then.”
“Good, I guess. All of this waiting is getting old.”
It had been over two days since they’d seen Preacher, but they knew he was still close by. Abby insisted that she could feel him, somewhere out in the woods.
Steve rose from the couch and rummaged through his nearby backpack to find a clean shirt. They had agreed that it made sense to sleep in their clothes, in order to be prepared. Steve had laughed a little at this decision afterwards. The idea of being prepared for something like this was a little foolish, considering that they didn’t know what “this” would be like. Between the attack on Abby in the alley and his imitation of Martin, they had already experienced two very different, yet terrifying, encounters with Preacher.
“It’s only been a few days,” said Veronica. “But yeah, it seems like a lot longer.”
“I know. You seem to get stuck pulling the late nights. Are you doing okay with that?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s not a problem. I’m used to staying up late and getting up early. When I was in college, my exam weeks were all-night cram sessions—and I did damn well on them too. Of course, nowadays, I need just a little bit more caffeine to keep the blood flowing.”
Steve chuckled. “Funny, I would’ve thought that the idea of an impending confrontation with one of the most powerful demons walking the face of our planet would be enough to keep your eyes open.”
“Well, tha
t helps too.”
Steve walked to the window as he buttoned up his shirt. The dew was thick on the blades and a cool fog hovered over the scrub forest beyond. He cracked the window and breathed deeply. The cool, fresh morning air felt good on his face. The rich smell of earth and the woods was comforting and peaceful. He knew it was a temporary peace, but that made him appreciate it even more.
Opening the windows was a risk they chose to take, The house was stifling in the daytime sun. Cracking the windows in the evening was the only way to make things tolerable. However, they all agreed to sleep with them closed.
Veronica seemed to read his mind.
“Are you scared, Steve?”
“Absolutely.”
“Me, too.”
“Sure, we all are.” He walked back to the couch and sat down beside her.
“But I am also proud of us. I think we’ve got what it takes to beat this, whatever this is. We’re here because we were singled out, by both sides, because we have more potential for doing good things than most of the people on the planet. I think that is pretty reassuring.”
“Yeah, I know. I just wish we knew what was going to happen. This wide-open not-knowing is so . . . frustrating. Give me something to fight!” She raised a fist in front of her, shadowboxing.
Before Steve could respond, Abby answered from the chair.
“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that much longer,” she said. She cleared her throat.
Steve noticed how tired she looked. Her hair and clothes were disheveled. Her lower lip was purple and a little swollen, the result of her constant nervous chewing. Her eyes were still beautiful, but the dark circles under them spoke of a long period of restless nights. Since their encounter with Preacher in Cozumel, she seemed to have aged into a full adult. Steve briefly imagined how frantic her parents must be by now and then forced the thought out of his head.
“Something’s happening out there,” she said, gesturing to the window.
It was hard to believe, given the forest sounds and soothing breeze floating into the room, that anything was out of the ordinary beyond the confines of the small cottage. Nevertheless, Steve had already seen enough of her intuition to know that it had to be trusted. He nodded.
“Martin! Time to get up brother! Looks like today is gonna be a busy day!”
Martin stirred and groaned under the twisted blankets. Steve turned to Veronica and Abby.
“How about you two do a window and door check? I’ll get this one.”
The women nodded and left the room. Steve stood and once again walked to the window. He bent down and opened it wider, then leaned out and stretched, looking at the clearing around the front of the cabin. In the distance he could see the orange glow of the sun just beginning to climb above the horizon. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
There isn’t anything ordinary about any of this.
He pulled the window down and then shut and locked it. He put on his shoes and nudged Martin with his foot.
“Come on, rise and shine, Martin. This looks like a good day for a decent breakfast!”
Chapter 43
Dawn came and went as they huddled in the den. They each clutched their makeshift weapons. They paced. They rocked. They whispered. They had locked and blocked both doors leading out of the den. Conversation was light and carried in hushed tones.
Steve had taken the chair closest to the window. He stole frequent glances through the dirty pane out onto the yard beyond, where he could see the sunlight glinting off dewdrops on the few blades of grass that shot up from the verdant carpet. The mist had retreated from the lawn itself, but still hung low and heavy over the surrounding brush.
The evening sounds of the forest had long since given way to the familiar bird calls that they had heard loud and strong every day they had been in the cabin. But the sunlight and the birds did nothing to dull their nerves. Each of them was alert, gripping and re-gripping weapon handles and furniture arms. They took turns stealing glances and sometimes even long stares out the window at the empty lawn and peaceful forest beyond.
“Guys,” Steve said, “I have never coached a team, and I suck as a salesman. So this pep talk might not be the best you’ve ever heard. But what I am saying needs to be said, and it needs to be said now.”
He felt responsible for each of them. He would have to answer to Veronica’s family, Martin’s family, Abby’s parents and anyone else who cared about them the way they now cared about each other. Less than two weeks ago, he would have scoffed at the idea of leading this group of ragtag soldiers into a battle they didn’t want, but couldn’t avoid. And now, it was literally at their doorstep.
“Martin, a few days ago, you said you didn’t care to be a pawn in someone else’s game.”
Martin nodded.
“I agree with you. But I say we’ve got to take that to heart. We will no longer sit by and let this happen to us. I refuse to be anyone’s pawn! We are ready for this, all of us! This is our board, our rules and we own this game. We aren’t pawns. We are the kings and the queens, and we will win this thing once and for all, here and now! We can do this, and we will. I know you’re scared—I am too. But don’t let that beat us down. It’s time to rise up and forget what we think we can and cannot do, and just do what needs to be done!”
He pounded the floorboards with the butt of his axe for emphasis.
“We are bound to each other via knowledge that few other people on earth have shared, or would even believe. We are going to put this thing to rest. No more nightmares, no more suffering, no more manipulation. Preacher took people from us whom we loved deeply, and it put a hole in our souls. Whatever happens here today, we can’t bring them back.”
He fought back a flash vision to his nightmare and Julie’s body crashing into him.
“What is the point of being alive, if all you’re going to do is worry about being dead? We are here for a reason. So let’s show that thing out there, and anybody else who’s watching, that we don’t take that ‘positive’ label lightly.”
Steve could see the resolution in their faces and the hope behind it. They wanted to believe.
“But we can be certain that his evil doesn’t unbind us at our core. He hurt us. He tore something right out of our hearts that we can’t replace. We must remember why. Why did he do it? Because he knew God had chosen us—from among billions of people on this planet. Preacher did what he did in order to shake us to our core; make us forget about love, happiness, faith and following the path of a positive. It didn’t work though, did it? Biker told us that God has faith in us. And if He has faith in us . . . then so do I!”
Please God, let that be enough to face him down.
Steve put down his axe and gestured them into a circle. They all stood and embraced in a tight huddle. Hot, angry tears fell down Veronica’s face. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, all the while clutching Biker’s .45. They were tensed, ready to rumble and let loose the adrenaline that coursed through their veins. The aggression, the tension was palpable, and it was time to act.
“You got us, brother,” said Martin, voice choked with emotion. “We’re with you to the end.”
They stretched, adjusted a grip on their makeshift weapons and stood crowded together.
With no warning, the sound of silence broke loud over them. It wasn’t a gradual softening of the sounds of the forest around them; it was as if someone had thrown a woolen blanket over the house. It was immediate silence—inside the cottage and out. They all gathered around the grimy window. The mist still hovered in the woods beyond the clearing, but the chattering of birds and insects had stopped.
As quickly as the silence set in, a single noise in the fog replaced it. It sounded to Steve like an ancient front porch rocking chair, the aching joints screeching with each movement. Slowly the sound increased in volume. As it got louder, it morphed into what sounded like the guttural disjointed halves of a bullfrog’s call, from each side of the tiny house.
/> Scree!
A brief pause.
Scrum!
Scree!
Scrum!”
For several agonizing minutes, the noise continued. It was louder with each repetition. The windowpane rattled, and they could feel the sound in their chests. Louder and louder, but still no sign of movement outside the dirty window. Then, it stopped.
“This is it guys,” whispered Steve.
Preacher walked out of the mist and the woods and stood at the edge of the clearing, baring his long teeth in a sinister smile.
On Tenterhooks Page 28