by J. S. Bailey
A wide-eyed girl a few years younger than Lily cast her gaze up at Larry, whose bald head now glistened with sweat. “Mister Larry? Where are we going?”
The man got down on one knee to be at her level, and Adrian was surprised to see affection in his eyes. “I said we’re all going outside. Remember?”
“Outside?” The child’s brow creased and she looked to the floor.
Larry took her small hand and squeezed it. “It’ll be all right. Just stick with the group, okay?”
The child nodded, her eyes full of uncertainty, and Adrian’s heart broke anew. These children would have to undergo years of therapy once this was all behind them. Would it be possible for them to ever be normal again?
Maybe I don’t want to know the answer to that.
She and Larry took their places at the end of the line of children, and Randy opened the door, swept the outside corridor with his gaze, and beckoned for them all to follow.
Adrian’s pulse sounded like a bass drum in her ears. Some of the children fidgeted while they spilled out of the dormitory, and the boy standing directly in front of her twisted his head around and gave Adrian an accusing stare as if demanding to know why his daily routine was changing.
Once everyone gathered in the hallway, Randy lowered his voice. “Remember to stick together, okay? We don’t want to lose anyone.”
How ironic. They’d already lost Vincent.
Randy and Joe started walking again, and the two lines of children followed. It’s going to be okay, Adrian thought as hope surged in her chest. We’re all going to be okay.
She walked straight into the back of the boy in front of her when the line gave a sudden halt after rounding a corner.
She lifted her head, and all hope died.
Jack stood in front of the entrance to the stairwell, his dishwater-blond hair in disarray and his eyes shot through with red lines. For the first time ever Adrian saw the true evil that lay behind them.
“Hello, Jack,” Randy said, appearing strangely calm. “I see you’re awake.”
“Don’t act friendly with me,” Jack spat. “I’m in charge here now that Troy’s dead.” His gaze flicked to Joe. “What the hell are you doing?”
Without warning, Joe brought a fist back and slammed it into Randy’s face. Adrian brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a cry. “No, don’t!”
Randy brought his hands up to block another blow.
“They made us do this!” Joe wailed for Jack’s benefit. “They threatened to kill us if we didn’t leave with the children!”
“Liar!” Adrian screamed. “You’re just a coward!”
Jack was already moving in to join the fray, and Adrian and Larry shoved through the dispersing lines of children to aid Randy, who wouldn’t be able to fight off two assailants on his own.
Assuming Larry wouldn’t turn on them as well.
Randy planted a blow on Joe’s face, sending him to the floor. No sooner had Joe curled up and put his face in his hands when Jack started on Randy with as much gusto.
“What should I do?” Adrian whispered to Larry.
Ardor shined in the man’s eyes. “Take as many as you can with you before the kids get hurt. There’s another stairwell you can take.”
Adrian grabbed the hands of the two nearest children and practically had to drag them in order to come with her. “Come on, come on,” she panted, looking from the boy on her left to the girl on her right. “Let’s get out of here.”
She retreated the way they’d come and turned down a different corridor, then eyed the stairwell Larry had mentioned. “We’re going this way.”
She shoved the children through the door ahead of her and urged them upward. When they made it to the next floor, she peered out the door first, saw that the coast was clear, and dashed into the first floor hallway, through the lobby, past the lifeless Vincent, and finally through the door.
They arrived in the parking lot. “Stay right here,” Adrian said, pointing at a random spot in the gravel that she hoped was a sufficient distance away from the building. “I’ll be right back.”
Adrian dashed back into the Domus and down to the basement, then drew up short when she reached the group of remaining children. Larry was busy putting the injured Joe out of commission by tying him up with strips of torn sheet. Randy and Jack, however, were still fighting. Even though Adrian’s gut told her to hurry up and run with more of the children, she couldn’t help but watch the two-man battle unfold.
Enraged desperation had entered Jack’s bloodshot eyes. It seemed he was teetering on the edge of a breakdown. He kicked at Randy’s shins, dodged Randy’s fist that came flying at his head, and managed to plant a blow on Randy’s already-swollen cheek, but neither man gained the upper hand.
“Stand down,” Randy hissed through clenched teeth as he tried to grab Jack’s arm. Blood glistened at the corner of his mouth. “A smart man would realize he’s outnumbered.”
“I’m not outnumbered!” Jack screamed. “I have friends you can’t even see!”
Adrian watched, mesmerized, as the men grunted and huffed. Larry, now finished tying up his cowardly coworker, crept up behind Jack, hooked an arm around his neck, and dragged him to the floor.
His face already bruising, Randy pinned Jack’s legs in place. Jack continued to flail like a beached fish that needed to be put out of its misery. “I hate you!” he moaned. “I hate all of you! You were supposed to help me!”
He’s raving mad. Who did Jack think he was talking to?
Shaking her head, Adrian got the attention of two more children and herded them toward the other stairwell.
“I wonder why Giselle hasn’t come to see what’s up,” she heard Larry say behind her.
“Giselle’s dead!” Jack screamed from the floor. “I crushed her stupid throat!”
Bile worked its way up into Adrian’s mouth as she pictured the blonde sitting behind the counter chewing her gum, but she forced it back down. You reap what you sow.
She brought the third and fourth children outside into the light. The first two stood where she’d left them, looking frightened. “I should stay here with them,” she murmured to herself, realizing that like the children she’d birthed, the four she’d taken from the basement consisted of two girls and two boys. She may not have shown love to her flesh and blood, but she could show love to these so they’d know they weren’t alone.
“Come on, let’s sit over here,” she said, gesturing for them to follow her to the front edge of the lot. They sat down in the shade of the evergreens, and the children obediently arranged themselves beside her. “What are your names?”
“Ashlynn,” said one.
“Ellie,” said another.
The boys were Jacob and Eric.
“And I’m Adrian,” she said when they finished introducing themselves.
“What’s happening?” asked the black-haired boy named Eric.
“Good things.” I hope.
Eventually Randy and Larry emerged from around the side of the building with the rest of the children.
“That’s all of them?” Adrian asked, rising from the ground.
Randy nodded. “We passed a few guests in the upstairs hallway.”
“They didn’t try to stop you?”
“Nope. Oddly enough, I think they were afraid of me. It must have been my face. Those two downstairs got me good.”
Adrian found she wasn’t surprised. “So what now?
Randy prodded a tentative finger at his swollen cheek. “We wait.”
So wait, they did. Adrian leaned against the side of a Toyota and closed her eyes, relishing the sensation of sunlight on her skin. She didn’t know how many days it had been since she’d been outside in the open air to see the trees and birds and sky above. It felt like a century.
After a while—an hour, perhaps, though Adrian wasn’t sure—a distant wail rose through the trees, causing a flock of birds to scatter into the air. Sirens.
Her face broke into
a grin.
“Bobby Roland,” Randy said to the sky, “I think I could kiss you.”
BOBBY RODE shotgun in a police cruiser as he gave directions to the stern-faced officer sitting behind the wheel, adrenaline surging through him like a tide.
Upon law enforcement’s arrival at the Kwik Stop, Bobby had informed them that a metal gate guarded the lane leading to the Domus. In the present, Bobby kept his eyes peeled as he sought a glimpse of white through the trees. “It should be coming up soon,” Bobby said. “On the right.”
The officer, who had introduced himself only as Madsen, radioed this information to the other vehicles in their entourage.
Bobby’s heart leapt into his throat as the next bend in the road straightened out. “There it is.”
Madsen jerked the cruiser onto the shoulder and silenced the siren. “You’re going to have to sit tight,” he said.
“I understand.”
The armored rescue vehicle that had been traveling behind them parked in front of the gate. Half a dozen men dressed in armored gear spilled out, ran to the gate, and shoved their full weight against it, forcing it open.
Bobby watched as the men shouted something to each other and piled back into their vehicle. “I didn’t know getting in would be that easy.”
Madsen gave a hollow laugh as the armored vehicle proceeded up the gravel lane, followed by another cruiser. Two ambulances brought up the rear. “Nothing about this is going to be easy, kid. If everything you’ve said is true, we’ve got quite a big problem on our hands.”
After forty minutes came and went, the radio crackled to life. “10-78 and 10-79.”
“Is it safe to proceed?” Madsen responded.
“Ten-four. And we’re going to need more transport.”
“What?”
“We don’t have enough room for all of them, sir.”
Madsen muttered something under his breath and threw the cruiser into gear before turning down the lane. After several minutes it opened out into the parking lot, where uniformed men were shoving Jack into the back of the other cruiser. Several other handcuffed individuals under close supervision sulked close by as they waited their turns to be hauled away.
Randy and Adrian stood off to one side speaking to another officer who was jotting down notes. Paramedics were checking each of the children, who appeared to be unharmed.
The Spirit spoke loud and clear into Bobby’s heart. Well done.
Bobby grinned.
“Stay here,” Madsen ordered, then climbed out of the cruiser. Bobby watched him stride over to the officer who drove the other cruiser.
“Okay,” Bobby whispered. “So if my premonitions are really gone, how do I get them back?”
One word floated into his thoughts: Kevin.
Of course. Kevin was a healer. He’d be able to restore Bobby’s and Randy’s respective abilities with nothing more than the touch of a finger, and all would be well.
Bobby looked out the window once more to observe the small crowd amassed in front of the Domus. To think that all of those children were free because Jack enlisted someone to kidnap Adrian. Talk about silver linings.
As he started counting the number of children and young adults, he realized someone was missing. Vincent and his black aura did not appear among the throng.
Bobby was out of the car and running before common sense told him to stay put.
“Where’s Vincent?” he panted as he came up to Randy’s side, effectively interrupting his conversation with the officer. Rivulets of blood had dried on Randy’s left arm and his cheek was swollen, but since Randy didn’t have any apparent open wounds, Bobby guessed the blood belonged to someone else.
The look of sorrow that entered Randy’s hazel eyes told him all he needed to know.
Bobby felt as though he’d been punched in the gut. Vincent couldn’t be dead. He needed help, and Bobby was going to give it to him. “What happened?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“As I was just telling Officer Ortega here,” Randy said in a solemn tone, “I’d pretended that I was going to shoot Vincent if the receptionist didn’t let us pass. She picked up a gun from behind the counter and started firing at me but the gun must have jerked in her hands because she shot Vincent instead. He didn’t even have a chance.”
“Where’s the receptionist now?” Bobby asked, turning back to the group of handcuffed people.
“Dead. Jack killed her for killing Vincent.”
Bobby blinked back tears. He couldn’t feel bad for the woman—not after what she’d done to the possessed healer. He could only pray that death had granted Vincent release from demonic bondage and that he would find peace in the arms of his Maker.
His gaze traveled to the shattered windows in the front of the building. Vincent was in there—he just knew it. He wished he could go inside and apologize to Vincent for what had happened, but corpses could not listen to the lamentations of the living.
I’m so sorry, Bobby thought. And may God have mercy on your soul.
THE WHOLE gang, including Adrian Pollard, Allison Mason, and little Ashley, gathered at the Jovingos’ house late that night. While Ashley dozed in an armchair with a teddy bear tucked under her arm, Carly and Phil recounted their discovery of Thane’s true nature and his seemingly invincible powers, and it gave Bobby the chills. The thought that the apparition that had appeared in his house and car was a flesh-and-blood human with a demonic gift was almost too much for him to handle. How could they ever defeat someone who could be listening in to their thoughts at any moment?
Unfortunately, that thought could wait.
“Bobby and I have a problem,” Randy said to dispel the long silence that followed Carly and Phil’s announcement. “We were healed by someone who was possessed, and it robbed us of our abilities.”
Phil’s face went white. He looked to Bobby. “Your premonitions?”
“Are gone. When we were trapped in that building I should have been having them left and right.” Bobby paused to clear his throat and looked across the room toward Kevin, who appeared to be his usual glum self. “Kevin? I wondered if you could heal me again.”
“What?” Kevin jerked out of a reverie. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that. Come here.”
Bobby crossed the room, trying not to feel uncomfortable from the many sets of eyes watching him, and reached out his hand. Kevin twined his fingers around Bobby’s and squeezed tight.
Bobby could feel the warmth enter him, and Kevin released his grip. “All fixed?” Kevin asked with a small smile.
“I think so, but I won’t know for sure until I need to be warned about imminent danger.”
“Thank the Lord you’re not having one now,” Phil sighed. “We’ve had enough ‘danger’ this week to last us several lifetimes.”
“Can I get an amen?” Randy asked as Bobby returned to his seat.
“Amen,” Carly and Lupe chorused, the latter of whom had heavy bags under her eyes.
“I guess it’s my turn now.” Randy stood and went to Kevin. “Thanks again for being here.”
Kevin smiled. “No problem.” The washed-out healer grabbed Randy’s hand and released it seconds later.
Randy turned to Lupe, who occupied one end of the loveseat he’d just vacated. He opened his mouth to speak but faltered.
Lupe said something to him in Spanish, her brown eyes hopeful.
Randy’s face paled.
“What is it?” Phil asked sharply.
Randy’s gaze darted between Lupe and Kevin. “It didn’t work.”
Kevin’s objection was immediate. “What do you mean, it didn’t work? It’s always worked!”
“Maybe you weren’t touching me long enough.” Randy grasped Kevin’s hand tight and held on for a full minute.
Lupe spoke to Randy again, more desperately this time, in words Bobby couldn’t understand.
Randy uttered a soft curse. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
“To you?” Kevin goggled at him. “I
don’t know what’s happening to me!”
Frankie, who had been silent for the past several minutes, spoke up. “How are we to know that Bobby is healed if Randy isn’t? Could it be possible that Kevin’s abilities don’t heal spiritual wounds?”
Adrian, who sat quietly in a chair close to Bobby, held a dazed look in her eyes. “I’ve entered a madhouse,” she murmured, gazing down at the carpet.
Frankie cleared his throat. “Well? How are we to know if Bobby is healed?”
“Easy,” Bobby said, unable to look away from Kevin and Randy. “We wait and see if I have another premonition.” Something fluttered in his gut. What if his premonitions really were gone for good? He would no longer be plagued with terror at inopportune moments. He would no longer panic at the thought of being unable to save people.
But how many would perish as a result?
“That could take weeks,” Frankie said.
Bobby shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I don’t think that would be so bad.”
A long silence fell over the group. Carly’s forehead was creased, her mother sat close by in a kitchen chair looking anxious, Roger Stilgoe tapped his fingers nervously on his knees, and Frank the First was frowning in concentration.
Then Frankie stood up brusquely and went to the kitchen. “What are you doing?” Janet called after him.
“Conducting an experiment.”
“Oh, God help us,” Carly said, shaking her head.
Frankie reappeared with a knife the approximate length of Bobby’s forearm. “Not that again!” Janet said with wide eyes. “Frankie, you put that back before you hurt yourself.”
Frankie ignored her. Bobby watched in fascination as Frankie slid the blade across the palm of his hand. It drew a bead of blood that was laughably small in comparison to the size of the knife.
“Now let’s see what happens,” Frankie said as he stepped up to Kevin, who dutifully touched Frankie’s hand. Frankie withdrew it after ten seconds and held it close to his face for examination.
The slump of Frankie’s wide shoulders indicated the worst. “It didn’t work.”
Kevin let out a moan. “How can this even happen? What am I going to do?”