The Tears of Nero (The Halo Group Book 1)

by Jason Brannon

  “After you,” Edward said, unwilling to commit to anything. Kelly nodded and dropped her gaze, realizing she was alone.

  At first glance, Nero’s game wasn’t anything spectacular. A computer sat on a plain folding table. The screensaver featured a caricature of the robed, masked figure they’d seen in the basement on Archibald Street. He was laughing at them.

  A series of cables snaked from the monitor and hard drive to a satellite unit. A printer was also hooked to the computer. Several sheets of blank white paper were waiting in the print tray. It looked like a makeshift workstation for Nero’s secretary rather than a potential death trap devised by a maniac.

  Beside the computer was a locked steel box. The metal was rusty in places, but the box seemed impenetrable without a key. Edward remembered the key from the tiger’s mouth and pulled it out of his pocket. He handed it to Kelly. “I think you’re going to need this.”

  Kelly nodded, stepped up to the computer, and jiggled the mouse a couple of times until the screensaver went away. A large icon took up most of the screen. Like something from a Wonderland riddle, it read only: “Click Me!”

  Kelly directed the cursor to the icon and double-clicked. The caricature from the screensaver suddenly came to life. Nero stared back at her, studying her from behind his harlequin’s mask. Tears had been drawn beneath both eye slits, and the mouth had been carved in a perpetual frown.

  Nero’s location wasn’t immediately clear. There was very little light in the room save for that which was directed onto the madman’s painted face. Nero wore a purple robe with gold fringe at the throat. His ash-colored blonde hair was adorned with a crown of olive leaves. He was of medium-build with large delicate hands that looked like they had been sewn onto the wrong body. His tunic pressed tight against his pot belly, and were it not for the strange costume he wore, Nero might have looked at home riding behind the wheel of an eighteen-wheeler.

  “This is the guy we’ve been so afraid of?” Franklin said. “He doesn’t look so bad.”

  “Looks can be deceiving,” Nero said in an electronically-manipulated voice, revealing that he could hear every word being said. “Of course, you should know that better than anyone. Right, brother?”

  “Who are you?” Franklin demanded. “Show yourself to us, you coward!”

  “You’re in no position to order me around,” Nero said. “And if I were you, I’d close my mouth. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to tell all these nice people about some of the things you’ve done in your past. Remember! Bad things have happened to good people. You‘ve been responsible for some of them.”

  Franklin’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he looked at Kelly and waited for her to do something.

  “That’s better,” Nero said. Although no one could see his true face, it was obvious from the satisfaction in his voice that he was smiling behind that mask. “Now, onto Esmeralda…or you might know her better as Miss Kelly Avery.”

  “What do you want?” Kelly asked.

  “A simple test of your skills is all I require,” Nero said. “For so many years you’ve pretended to ‘see’ things that you couldn’t see, yet once upon a time you ignored something that passed right before your very eyes. You and I have a past, and I intend to bring your sin to light. The reasons for each of you being here on this island with me are different. The reason you‘re here, Kelly, is personal.”

  “I don’t understand,” Kelly stammered.

  “Think about it for a moment,” Nero said. “It will come to you. Bad things happened to a good person at some point in your past, and you allowed it. My question is why?”

  “I’ve never done anything to anybody,” Kelly protested.

  “True enough,” Nero said. “But you allowed something to be done…and isn’t that really the same thing? Commission? Omission? All sins are black in the end. Just ask Henry.”

  “What do I have to do with any of this?” Henry stammered.

  “Let us go,” Kelly pleaded. “We haven’t done anything to you.”

  “This is your personal Patmos, your own private Croatoan. I’ve gone to great lengths to plan this. This is where you see the end of your world and mine. This is the place where you disappear without a trace, where you make me understand why bad things happen to good people, where you explain yourself and see if your explanation is good enough. I suspect it won‘t be.”

  “Why are we here?”

  “As I explained earlier, some of you are here because I need to make you suffer for what you did to me. Some of you are here to help me understand, to make me feel better, to give me a sense of justice being set right in the world.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Kelly asked. “How can I make things right with you?”

  “I have a little test for you. If you’re really a psychic this shouldn’t be any problem. If not, things might get a bit sticky for you. Use your key and unlock the box.”

  Although nervous about the prospect of what might be inside, Kelly did as she was instructed. At first, it looked like the box was filled with thousands of gold coins. Upon closer inspection, it became clear those gold coins were actually hundreds of bottle caps taken from dozens of varieties of beer.

  “The game is simple and relates directly to your purpose for being here…and to the history you and I share. Use your gift to tell me how many bottle caps are in this box. Get the right answer, and never see or hear from me again. Answer incorrectly, and I’ll light a candle in your honor. You have two minutes to use the keyboard to enter your answer. Bad things happened to a good person once upon a time. Remember that. These bottle caps should be a firm reminder of that day.”

  Like some strange variant of a popular game show, Nero began to play his fiddle. The music was jovial, festive, hardly conducive to making an educated guess. It was like the theme music to Jeopardy as played by a homicidal maniac.

  “What do I do?” she asked.

  “Do you know how many caps are in the box?” Edward asked.

  “No,” Kelly admitted.

  “Why not? You knew how much change I had in my pockets earlier. This is the same thing.”

  “It’s different,” she said as Nero continued to play.

  “How is it different?” Edward asked, his voice growing cold.

  “Yes,” Nero interrupted. “How is it different, Kelly?”

  “It just is,” she stammered. “It just is.”

  “That answer isn’t good enough,” Edward said. “Tell me the truth. Your life is at stake. Now is not the time for secrets.”

  Kelly looked away, unwilling to meet his gaze. “I was hired to be here. The money was too good to pass up. I had no idea all this would happen.”

  Edward sighed.

  “I knew it!” Franklin said again, satisfied with himself. “Nobody ever listens to me!”

  “Who hired you?” Henry asked.

  “I don’t know,” Kelly admitted. “Nero, I would assume, although I never actually saw his face.”

  Nero stopped fiddling again and stared through the mask’s mournful slits at Kelly. “You were hired, yes. That was the best way to get you here. You are tied to me like the rest of these sheep. We have a history, you and I. Maybe if God hadn‘t allowed the serpent to live, you and I wouldn‘t be having this conversation. But He did, and so we‘re here. Thank God for your predicament.”

  “How do I know you?” Kelly asked, a note of pleading in her voice. “Tell me that at least.”

  “Guess the correct number, and I’ll share that bit of information with you. Or have your psychic abilities failed you now? You should already know the answer to your own question. You should know who I am. Then again, maybe you aren‘t as gifted as you want everyone to believe. The clock is ticking, my dear.”

  Kelly looked at Edward. “What do I do?”

  Edward rushed toward the table. He began to scoop out handfuls of bottle caps. “Everyone help. Maybe we can count these before the time runs out.”

  “She
lied to us,” Franklin protested. “Why should we stick our necks out for her?’

  “It doesn’t matter,” Edward said. “We can’t sit here and do nothing.”

  Reluctantly, Franklin joined the rest of the group as they huddled around the table and began counting the bottle caps Edward dumped in front of them. It only took a couple of seconds for Edward to scream. He had just reached in to grab another handful when something moved beneath the surface.

  “Scorpions!” Edward shrieked. “The box is full of scorpions. They're underneath the bottle caps. Don‘t reach in!”

  Nero laughed. It was a sound that would have seemed at home in a concentration camp or coming from the violent ward of a psych hospital. “You didn’t think I’d make this easy, did you?” the madman asked. “This is Kelly’s cross to bear. Kelly, love, you have thirty seconds. I‘d suggest you use The Force or whatever it is that you call your little gift and divine me an answer.”

  Kelly looked frantically around at the other members of the group. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her lower lip trembled in fear. “What’s he going to do to me?” she asked.

  At that moment, everyone else looked as frightened as she did.

  “Make a guess,” Edward said. “Type in something.”

  Kelly nodded and ran to the keyboard. She typed in her answer and saw Nero begin to laugh. It was the last sound she heard before the computer went blank.

  “That’s it?” Franklin asked. “What now?”

  The silence was more uncomfortable than the sound of Nero’s violin. Everyone kept waiting for something to happen. But nothing did.

  “Maybe I guessed correctly,” Kelly said.

  “I don’t think so,” Henry replied. “Look.”

  The light on the printer blinked and one lone sheet of paper shot out. On it a single line was written.

  “Kelly, you will not be the rider of the pale horse….but you will be trampled by it before the night is over.”

  Chapter 14

  Everyone was nervous. Edward rattled the loose change in his pockets. Henry chewed on his thumbnail. Sadie shifted from one foot to the other. Franklin paced back and forth from one side of the tent to the other. Yet Kelly’s nervousness bordered on panic. She cried and trembled, unsure of what Nero was going to do to her. It wouldn’t have surprised any of them if the madman rushed out of the shadows at any minute with a meat cleaver or a machete.

  Nobody knew exactly what to say. Nothing could make this situation any better. Edward or Henry would have been the obvious choices to begin the inevitable conversation about Kelly’s deceit. Yet it was Franklin who spoke up, and what he said surprised them all. “I think I may know who Nero is.”

  “Who?” Henry asked.

  “I’ve been giving this a lot of thought and something occurred to me. We’re dealing with someone religious, fanatical, and obviously well connected. This guy is rich, charismatic enough to lead an entire group of nutjobs, and zealous. Only one person I know fits that bill. Reverend Halford K. Lindell.”

  “The televangelist?” Sadie asked.

  “That’s the guy. He needed me to finance one of his crusades a few years back when he was first getting started, and I had a thing for his wife, so I agreed. It seemed reasonable at the time.”

  “Let me guess,” Edward spoke up. “You and the wife had a little fun. Lindell got wind of it. Fireworks ensued.”

  “That’s the short version,” Franklin admitted. “Have any of the rest of you had any dealings with him?”

  “I’ve known him forever, since we were kids. I worked for him a long time ago,” Kelly volunteered. “I was one of the plants in his audience. I used to go on stage and let him lay hands on me. Then I would pretend to faint and let one of deacons catch me. When I came to, I would be miraculously healed. Lindell would should ‘Praise God!’ and the offering plates would fill up.”

  “I know him too,” Edward admitted. “He was one of my professors in seminary. Before he went global. Interesting guy. Had some fringe beliefs that were a little outside the box.”

  “I taught him in school,” Henry added. “A long time ago. I also attended one of his churches in the early days of his ministry.”

  “Sadie? What about you?” Franklin asked.

  Sadie looked down at her hands, unsure of whether or not to speak up.

  “Sadie?” Edward persisted.

  “I was his mistress for a while,” Sadie whispered. “So yeah, I guess you could say I knew him.”

  “It's strange that none of us have considered him until now,” Henry said.

  “I can't speak for the rest of the group, but I haven't seen or spoken to Lindell in years,” Edward said. “There was no bad blood between us. That's why he didn't immediately spring to mind.”

  Henry nodded. “He was a child when I knew him. I never spoke to him while attending his church. By then, there were far too many members and far too little time in his schedule. I could have tried to force my way in to talk to him, but I didn't really see the point.”

  “It's been at least 5 years for me,” Sadie said. “But we didn’t end on good terms.”

  “That crusade I financed was at least ten years ago,” Franklin noted. “Obviously, he and I didn’t end on good terms either.”

  “I worked for him around that same time,” Kelly said.

  “It's strange that he's gathered us all together so many years later for some perceived slight,” Edward said.

  “Revenge is a dish best served cold,” Henry said with a smile. “Maybe that old adage rings true here.”

  “I remember the way Lindell used to lecture on the end of time,” Edward said. “He said he prayed for it every day. He used to talk about how the world was full of adulterers, thieves, abortionists, addicts, whores, liars, cheaters, and murderers.”

  “He used to preach about that too,” Henry said. “I remember listening to his sermons and feeling like he was a little too zealous about hoping the world would end.”

  “Ok, let’s assume that Lindell is our guy,” Edward said. “Kelly, what was your role in all of this? What were you hired to do? Is Lindell the one who paid you?”

  Kelly chewed on her bottom lip. “I was telling fortunes at a Halloween carnival. I was making stuff up and telling people what they wanted to hear. Your life will be filled with happiness and wealth. You will meet the love of your life in the coming weeks. That sort of thing. Anyway, I’d been doing the whole gypsy thing all night. I sat with skeletons, ghosts, pirates, princesses, vampires, hobos, super heroes, wrestlers, ninja turtles, you name it. All sorts of people in costume had come into my tent, paid me to lie to them, and gone away happy. I didn’t think much about the guy who came in wearing a toga and a painted theater mask. I assumed it was a Halloween costume.”

  “He sat down and stared at me through the slits in that mask, and I felt like a germ being studied underneath a microscope. ‘You see things,’ he said. I nodded and played along. ‘I see what the other side shows me,’ I said. ‘What sort of answers are you looking for?’ The man cracked his knuckles and sat a bag filled with old gold coins in front of me. I didn’t have to be an expert to know the money was real.”

  “I want to offer you a job,” the man said. “Take this money and the job is yours. I have been betrayed by humanity, and I want to see justice served. I have been betrayed by Heaven, and I want vengeance. I have suffered and I need your gifts. Not the gift of seeing though because you and I both know you’re a fraud. Rather, I need your ability to con, swindle, cheat and lie. The coins in that bag are worth more than you will make in the next 5 years. Take the job and take the money.”

  Kelly looked at everyone in the group. “I took the money. What else was I supposed to do?”

  “Maybe question why a masked stranger was paying you a fortune to lie for him,” Henry said. “It didn't seem a little odd to you that he was offering you so much money.”

  “Of course it did. But it's easy to turn a blind eye to the obvious whe
n you're desperate.”

  “You used to work for Lindell,” Edward said. “You spoke to Nero in your fortune telling tent. Was Lindell the guy behind the mask?”

  Kelly shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. If it was him, I didn’t make the connection. He was the last person I expected to see there.”

  “Nero said that the two of you had a shared past. You said you’ve known him since you were kids. He obviously has major issues with something you’ve done in the past. Would Lindell have any similar vendetta against you?”

  Kelly looked from Henry to Sadie to Franklin and finally let her eyes settle on Edward, feeling like he was the least judgmental. “I knew him since he was a boy. We were childhood friends. In fact, I was his only friend. Everybody else made fun of him. He wasn’t popular at all. He was a mama’s boy, and all the guys in class made fun of him. Eventually he changed schools though, and I didn’t see him for many, many years. After they moved away, I didn’t have any more contact with him until he started preaching. I wasn’t even sure he would remember me since so many years had passed, but I took a chance and struck up a conversation with him. Turns out, not only did he remember me from school, but he had tried to find a way to contact me after moving. He said he wrote me letters but his father always tore them up.”

  “Did you know his father?” Sadie asked.

  “Oh yeah,” Kelly admitted. “He was a drunk and an abusive man.”

  “Nero’s task for you was to count bottle caps,” Edward reminded her. “Think that might have anything to do with growing up with a drunk father.”

  Kelly thought about that for a moment, then stifled a cry. “Of course it does. Kellan blames me for what happened to him.”

  “Kellan?” Franklin asked.

  “That was his middle name. It’s what we called him in school. He didn’t go by Halford until he began his ministry.”