Burning Sky

by R. S. Scott

  “Hey! Drop the gun. If she doesn’t end you, I will!” I aim for his head.

  “The Keller boy, you’re next, boy! The coyotes will eat you while you’re still alive!” Karen starts backing away, pistol still pointing with the butt of a rifle inching closer.

  “Richard! That’s you, isn’t it? Richard Nelson?” I hold my aim on his head. “They call you the ‘Slow One,’ is that you? The ‘stupid one’ perhaps?” I say.

  “Fucking Keller, you’re worse than this whore! You know she used to give blowjobs after getting drunk. Damn good, too. So smooth and warm.” He says turning to Karen. “Perhaps one last time, for old time’s sake.” He smiles a wicked smile.

  Karen reaches for the rifle now inches from her aim. She has backed up to the chapel doorway fence. Richard pulls the rifle and grabs Karen in a blur, pulling her in front of him as her gun goes off where he stood. We stand nearly deaf as the ballistic crack echoes into the night.

  “Now, shall we talk about this, Keller. Your death has been ordered, and it will happen soon.” He holds an immobilized Karen. She breathes furiously. There are screams from the dining hall commotion. I fix my aim on Richard’s left eye socket, inches from Karen. He reaches down under Karen’s uniform. “Do you like that? Just like old times.”

  “Richard, I don’t miss at this distance,” I say, steadying my aim.

  “No, I bet you don’t,” he laughs.

  “Let her go, Richard. I don’t negotiate. I really don’t,” I tell him.

  “I bet you don’t,” Richard says.

  Karen trembles under his grasp.

  “Let her go,” I say.

  “No,” Richard returns.

  I fix my aim at his left eye and slowly squeeze my trigger. Richard Nelson drops into oblivion.

  CHAPTER 19

  “Officer Keller, we meet again. Unfortunately, under horrid circumstances.”

  “Agent Tom, happy to see you again.” We shake hands. “We had to take your sidearm, sorry for that inconvenience.”

  “No worries. Did you get everything you need from us?” I ask.

  Agent Tom smiles. “For now. Pastor Eugene was able to furnish us with plenty of information regarding the events inside the church. We have Karen’s statement, as well.”

  “Cool, can I go then?” I ask the agent.

  “Not yet, Officer Keller,” Agent Tom says, folding his hands in front of him and forcing a smile. “How well do you know Karen, your commanding officer?”

  “As well as a field officer would know his commanding sergeant, I guess,” I say.

  “The surviving members of the Nelson brothers all claim to know her…intimately,” Agent Tom says looking on inquisitively.

  “I wouldn’t know anything about that. That’s before my time,” I say and shrug.

  “Has she in any way alluded to anything in that regard?”

  “She stated she grew up with them, nothing else.”

  “Nothing promiscuous in nature?”

  “None.” I shake my head. “What’s the relevance?”

  Agent Tom looks down at his notes. “What about you, have you had any intimate relations with Karen?”

  “No, none.” I stare at Agent Tom. “She’s my boss and my friend, and my clan cousin.”

  Tom looks up from his notes, raising his pen.

  “Karen is good people, I have never seen her do anything of that sort,” I say.

  “Well, OK, then.” Agent Tom closes his large folder of many important bits of paper. “Question, if you have a moment.”

  “Sure, what’s up, Tom?” I say.

  “Did you two really encounter several inhuman entities? And expel over thirty rounds of 9mm?” he asks.

  “Yes, Karen did most of that with an MP5 machine pistol, and you have that I presume.”

  “We do, and your sidearm, but you checked out two MP5s from the Dilcon armory.” Agent Tom looks at me in a suspicious fashion.

  “Well, Agent Ellington, I knew you’d take one, so I grabbed two.” I sit smiling.

  He smirks. “You’ll have your pistols back in two days.”

  “Can I go now?” I ask.

  “Yes, be safe out there, Officer Steve Roan Keller.” Agent Tom says.

  “Don’t use my full name like that. It’s just creepy,” I say as we shake hands.

  The late afternoon gathering at the church is accompanied by newly-installed surveillance cameras at each corner.

  “Those are IP zoom cameras, those are infrared detectors, no idea what those things are.” Holden points at an array of seemingly disorganized antennas, each having a receiver. “Either it’s something beyond what we know, or they’ve gone completely nuts. White people are just weird with their gadgets.” We all share a nervous laugh.

  Pastor joins our table gathering. “Looks like we’re all here.” He sits. “Steve, Karen, Holden, Jeremy, Sharon, and Tom. Here we are as the darkness now encircles us.”

  “Pastor, don’t talk like that. What do you have besides lunch?” Jeremy speaks his mind.

  “Well, I haven’t cooked anything yet actually.” Pastor gets up from his chair. “I suppose I can quickly whip something up.”

  “Pastor,” Karen interrupts, “Why are we all here? You called us, why?”

  Pastor takes off his cook’s hat. “Listen, kids. I know that some of you are not really privy to what is here, or why I do what I do. I do it because of God in me. Now listen, I won’t ever get religious on you, you’re all too smart for that, but accept that what I tell you is true. Accept that what I know as my foundation, our foundation of not just religious Christianity, but faith-based Christianity. It is what’s holding us together. You may or not believe it, but it is a fact.” Pastor marches about the dining hall, taking on his preaching voice. “None of those things ever comes in here without some sort of exorcism, without some sort of confrontation of the root cause of what they’ve become. You all feel me?

  “I pray for each one of you. I pray for your safety and your salvation. Should you accept it or not, should you want to talk about it openly or not, should you want to confess how you feel or not, I do what I do because of God in me.” Pastor sits down again. “I just want you all to know that I consider you all my children, doing God’s work.”

  “Amen, Pastor,” Holden returns and fist bumps Pastor. “Amen.”

  “Amen,” I utter.

  Karen looks on, “Amen.”

  “Amen.” Jeremy and Sharon speak simultaneously and share a nod.

  “You work that God mojo, Pastor. It might be the only thing we have,” Jeremy says, toasting Pastor with his teacup.

  Agent Tom wears a stoic scowl and nods.

  “Now, I’ll have roasted mutton and frybread coming. It’s eating time soon.” Pastor puts the cook’s hat back on his head. “If you don’t have anywhere to go immediately, stay a while. You are all very welcome. It is Christmas Eve after all.”

  I arrive at the church Christmas party in my Sunday best. A clean pressed shirt, elongated wing-tipped oxfords, and a navy blazer. I carry a Christmas present for Rebecca and a stainless steel liquor flask for Old Man Taylor. My attempts to gift-wrap the present are woeful. A toddler could have wrapped the gift better. I wear my 9mm backup, which has given me a weird limp. A roomful of prying eyes greets me. Some smile warmly, others stare menacingly. I make my way to Pastor and Rebecca near the kitchen.

  I greet the child. With gentle eyes, Rebecca sees me and hugs my waist. I kneel down and hug her. “This is for you.”

  “Can I open it?” she asks.

  I glare at Pastor. “Sure, when he says so.” I turn back to Rebecca. “You know how old people are.”

  Rebecca laughs.

  “Where is your grandpa?” I ask. Rebecca points to the chapel.

  “Pastor, she’s smiling and talking. That’s so awesome.” I say and pat his shoulder. “Good efforts there, well done.”

  It is not long until we all smell like frybread and hominy stew. Presents are opened, a
nd hot tea is poured as we watched the children’s Nativity play.

  Joseph had a flamboyant swagger about him, one of the shepherds rightfully looked terrified as the angel’s hanging wires had gone awry. The angel descended face first with his wings pointing downward. He proclaimed the coming of the Christ. Then calmed the shepherds who looked on pointing to the wires holding up the angel. He then righted himself with his unruly hanging wires just to lose his left wing. It tumbles onto Mary, who then sneezed loudly blowing the toupee off of Baby Jesus who lay smiling. The three kings arrived, one particular king wore a large golden medallion and darkened sunglasses. Everyone knelt as the King of Kings was declared. We clapped, and Holden whistled loudly.

  “Pastor, that was good,” I say as we shake hands. “I liked the way the angel was mooning everyone.”

  Pastor laughs. “Oh no, and the toupee fell off the doll.”

  “Good efforts there, Pastor, good efforts,” I tell him.

  Karen, back in winter field-trooper fatigues, helps with the cleanup. I join Holden and Jeremy outside.

  “That furnace is seriously hot, wow.” I mutter while carrying my coat.

  “Yeah,” Holden says and adjusts his hat.

  “So, Jeremy,” I note his awkwardness. “Where is Chris?” Jeremy stands shuffling dirt with his boot, his hands buried deep into his jacket pockets. He says nothing.

  “Where is he? Chris the bear, where is he?” I approach the delicate topic more directly. “Jeremy?”

  “I don’t know,” Jeremy says.

  “The hell do you mean you don’t know? Where is he?” Holden inquires. “You’re in it with him, where did he go?” We stand listening to the howling breeze as the evening cold sets in from the west.

  “Three days ago,” Jeremy starts, “Chris has this weird nightmare and goes nuts. He gets up, and takes his bear skin into the bathtub, dumps lighter fluid on it and burns it, or tries to burn it.”

  “What happened?” I inquire.

  “It burned, but didn’t burn.” Jeremy returns.

  “The fuck does that mean?” I say and step closer to Jeremy. “What are you on about?”

  “It burned, there were flames there. But afterward, the pelt was still there, like it was fireproof or something. It didn’t fucking burn.” Jeremy waves his arms as he talks.

  “So where is Chris?” Holden’s disposition changes, his cheeriness replaced with one of outward hostility. “Where is he?” He speaks in a stern tone. “You know something, speak up.”

  “He starts screaming about some Bill guy, goes outside, then just,” Jeremy flips his hand to gesture a sudden turn of events, “He’s gone, just like that.”

  “Bill, as in William, right? Bill as in William?” I stand anxiously. “William?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since,” Jeremy says timidly, “He was there then he wasn’t.”

  “Wait,” Holden halts my inquiry, “Who is William? And where’s the pelt?”

  “Storage, in Flagstaff. His stuff is there, too. He’s still on administrative leave. I think the feds know where he is though.” Jeremy says and continues fidgeting.

  “How do you know that?” I ask.

  “Just a feeling. You know, that feeling you get when someone starts to seem indifferent to you. Like they know something but don’t want you to know what they know. Just a feeling. They’re hiding something.” Jeremy nods, “They’re hiding things.”

  Karen approaches us. “For a bunch of guys, you all talk a lot. Like a bunch of girls.”

  Holden gets my attention. “Who’s William?”

  “Tracy told me about this guy that she stumbled onto. Someone named William. She says he’s the guy behind most of what’s going on here.” I return, “William in Flagstaff.”

  “Tracy the whore?” Holden inquires.

  “Don’t call her that. Come on,” I say.

  “Steve is a bit sensitive when it comes to Tracy because he might like her more than he might ever admit. She loves him, and he loves her back,” Karen says and smirks.

  “Karen, shut up.” I point at Karen. “It’s not like that.”

  She laughs.

  Jeremy gets my attention. “What happened with Jess? She was a good woman. The hell did you do there? Trade her in for a whore? Really, Keller?”

  “No, it’s not like that,” I say.

  “You like Tracy,” Holden says and smiles. “Quit lying to yourself.”

  “Look, listen. I’ve always liked her growing up, then the whole son thing and I’m living up those things that I’ve buried.” Three pairs of smirking eyes glare into my soul. “I guess we’ve always liked each other, so the son thing just sort of pushes things in that direction, that’s all. Long ago I’ve decided to stay away from her, for obvious reasons. She screwed everyone, everywhere. You all think I would share her with everyone? No way, so I walked. But she keeps finding me, and now she might be carrying my son. You all hear that? My son.” I shrug. “What exactly am I to do? I might be a father. You all might be uncles.” I turn to Karen, “And a weirdo aunt.”

  “I’m sorry for calling her a whore,” Holden says and extends his hand for a handshake. Then he smiles wide.

  “Holden, come on,” I return.

  “Won’t happen again,” Holden says. We shake hands.

  “But understand this,” I continue, “She’s still a Monroe. She could be lying about everything. She could be in this with this William guy. We don’t know anything about that. For all we know, I’m getting played, and I’m taking you guys down with me. I just don’t know.” I button my coat as the sun sets. “I mean, what do we really know? The Monroes seem always to be a step ahead of us, and the Nelsons are slippery as wheel bearing grease. The feds aren’t getting anywhere there.”

  “Steve,” Holden seems sincere, “Did you get her a present?” Laughter erupts from Jeremy and Karen. “Get her a present, seriously, get her something nice. Jeremy, shut up! Karen, shut your frybread hole, no laughing. Steve, listen, get her something nice, the mother of your son deserves that.”

  “Thanks, Holden,” I say. We share a fist bump.

  “Frybread hole?” Karen glares at Holden with Jeremy still laughing. “I don’t eat that much.”

  “I’m not part of that conversation. See you guys later.” I return to the dining hall as a sarcastically personal squabble ensues between Holden and Karen with Jeremy still laughing.

  “Pastor, thanks for having me.” We shake hands and say our goodbyes. I head home still limping and smelling like frybread.

  I relax watching a British car show while sipping Taylor’s home brew. “Not bad, not bad at all.”

  My cell phone rings continuously. “What the hell?” I glare at my clock. It’s 5:33 am. “What the hell!” I answer, “Hello?”

  “Steve?” A soft seductive voice speaks

  “Jess?” I am immediately awake, hung over but still awake. “Hi, thanks for calling.”

  “I had a nightmare, so I just wanted to know if you were OK,” Jess says.

  “I’m good, are you OK?” I ask.

  “I’m OK. I think.” She pauses, “I had this dream. In it they killed you, and I watched.” Her voice breaks. “I’ve been having bad dreams the last week and a half. Max doesn’t even want to sleep on the bed with me. She just barks and leaves the room.”

  “Jess, listen, things are happening up here, and it’s not good,” I tell her.

  “I know. Sometimes I get scared, and I miss Hailey. I miss her so much,” Jess sobs. “I wish you were here sometimes, but other times I don’t. My father says just to stay away, but I just can’t.”

  “I’m so sorry. Listen, I would never hurt you, or in any way intentionally cause any harm to you. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I know, I know you wouldn’t. It’s just that.” She is silent. “I can’t be around that, and as long as you’re up there, I just can’t.” She cries again.

  “I know, I know. Listen, as long as I’m in this, I don’t wan
t you coming up here, you hear me?” I pause. “Jess?”

  “I’m here,” she sniffles. “I’m here.”

  “I don’t want you in this mess. It’s ugly up here, and I don’t want to put you through that anymore. I love you. I don’t want to see you in pain. I don’t want that.” I can hear her breathing softly and blowing her nose. “Jess?”

  “I love you, too.” Jess says.

  “You have to stay down there, as long as I’m in this, OK?” I tell her.

  “OK,” Jess promises.

  “You remember Pastor Bob from the church?” I ask her.

  “Yeah,” she says.

  “Go talk to him, tell him about your nightmares and what I’m dealing with up here. He’ll know what to pray for.”

  “OK,” Jess says.

  “Tell him about the time we went for a picnic up at the lake and we got rained on. Tell him about the time we drove all the way to Reno just to watch the sunset and eat a steak” I force a laugh.

  Jess laughs then blows her nose.

  “Tell him about the time Max locked us out of our house and we also got rained on.” I say.

  “And I’ll tell him about the time we accidently brought rum cake to a birthday party,” Jess forces a laugh.

  “Tell him about the time I almost proposed, I didn’t mean to be so misunderstood while changing out a pair of brake pads.” I say. “Remind him about us and what we stand for. That we will always endure. Jess, promise me you will.”

  “I promise,” she says.

  “OK.”

  We weep over our state of affairs. For our future, our past, and our misery-laden present, filled with fearful abandonment rooted in broken dreams and stunted marital plans. We weep for our children we have yet to raise, anniversaries we have yet to celebrate, and grandchildren we have yet to greet.

  “Goodbye.” I hang up. I lay silently as the heavy tears dry up with coming dawn.

  “The feds have pissed off the Nelsons really good,” Karen says shuffling through a mess of paperwork.

  “Yeah, two down and many more to go. That’s a big family.” I say as I sit reading more field reports. “Looks like killing them is not the way to do this. They just keep reproducing or popping out of the ground, or hatching from an egg, or whatever the hell they do.”