He stopped and, in an instant, it hit him. Leech, the man who had dropped him off, was he the man in the vision? The walk, the clothes, they were the same. At least he thought so.
Mark stood up and looked out the window in the direction where Leech had driven. His heart raced. He crumpled the magazine in his hands. “What is going on?” he said aloud.
The girl behind the counter was watching him. Mark noticed her reflection in the window but his attention was directed elsewhere. After determining that he needed nothing from her, she went back to her business.
He stood gazing off into the rising sun. A strong wave of fatigue hit him. He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to brush it away and forced himself to focus on the events that had led him here. He thought about calling Kathy but he knew it wasn’t the right time.
God, he thought to himself in prayer. God, I know you can hear my thoughts. I know that you have plans and you are in control, but please keep my wife safe. I don’t know what else to say.
He was frustrated and confused. Then, softly, he whispered into the air, “Sotare, where are you?”
Next to him, Sotare, invisible, listened, but did not respond. He glanced around, keeping guard, taking care of his charge.
“Where are you?” Mark called out. “Where are you, Sotare?”
He tossed the magazine back on the table. That is when he noticed a Bible. He looked around to see if there was anyone else there. The book seemed out of place lying on a table in a car rental business. He leaned down and randomly opened the book and his eyes were drawn to two verses. Jeremiah 23:23-24, “‘Am I a God who is near,’ declares the Lord, ‘and not a God far off? Can a man hide himself in hiding places, so I do not see him?’ declares the Lord. ‘Do I not fill the heavens and the earth?’ declares the Lord.”
The words struck Mark intensely as an answer to his prayer. Intrigued, he picked up the book, sat down, and started reading.
About ten minutes later Frank showed up with his tow truck. The sound of Country Western music at high volume blared from what looked like a well-worn flatbed with a tow hitch bolted on. The side of the door said “Heaven’s Tow Service.” Mark chuckled at the name. “Is this for real?” he said to himself.
Frank was a potbellied man in his fifties. He wore stained overalls, a Chicago Cubs baseball cap, and sported a toothpick hanging out of the corner of his mouth. There were a couple of days of accumulated stubble on his face. Frank offered Mark his grease-stained and calloused hand. Mark shook it and could not help but notice Frank’s stereotypical appearance.
They chatted outside the rental office next to the truck. At one point, Frank looked past Mark into the office, waving at the girl behind the counter. She smiled and waved back.
“I guess you’ve done this before,” said Mark.
“Sure have. You ain’t the only one wrecked out there on that road. It happens on that curve more than anywhere else in the county. I think it’s a bad combo of both the long stretch and people trying to make it through the night. Anyway, sometimes an accident can get pretty bad.” He sized up Mark with a single long look. “The good Lord was watching over you.”
Mark had heard other people make such comments, invoking the name of the Lord in such a way, but it had never meant anything to him before. This time he understood.
“Just sign right here,” said Frank as he pointed with a pen at a space on a clipboard. “It’s a standard release so I can get your car.” Mark signed it and handed the keys to Frank.
“All I need is the ignition key. Does the trunk open from the inside?”
“Yeah. I appreciate your doing this.” Mark removed the key and handed it to him.
Frank nodded politely and started towards his tow truck, stopped, and turned around. “Do you know your way around town?”
“A little. I’ve been here a few times before. My father-in-law lives here and I’m going to visit him.”
The man stared at Mark for an extra couple of seconds and then said, “Well, there’s a good motel up on Seventh Street called Seventh Heaven Motel. If you just tell them that Frank sent you, you’ll get a discount. That way, you can get cleaned up for your appointment if you need to.” Frank turned and got into his truck. The door squealed loudly as he closed it.
That was odd, thought Mark. Heaven’s Tow Service and Seventh Heaven Motel? He looked up into the sky and chuckled.
Frank’s noisy truck sputtered onto the highway.
Why did he suggest a motel? Mark wondered about that as he watched Frank drive off. That’s when he noticed someone sitting in the passenger seat. As Frank turned onto the road, the person in the passenger seat looked back at Mark. It was Sotare.
Mark locked his eyes on the truck as it sped off down the highway. What was he doing? Did Frank know Sotare was there or did he just show himself for Mark’s benefit? He continued to watch the truck until it was gone. He looked at his watch. It was just after 6 a.m.
Mark turned around and was instantly startled.
“Hello, Mark.”
“Sotare!” Mark smiled. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“I’m glad to see you, too. Please take Frank’s recommendation.” With that, Sotare smiled slightly with a nod and disappeared.
The brief and unexpected encounter left Mark bewildered and a bit exasperated. Why would Sotare appear and encourage him to go to a motel? Mark shook his head and retrieved the rental car keys from his pocket as he hurried to the vehicle. Somehow it all seemed normal, Frank’s comment, Sotare’s sudden appearance and equally hasty disappearance.
“Seventh Heaven Motel, here I come.”
***
Kathy lay awake in bed, thinking about the events of the past few days. Her dad had been in and out of the hospital. Pastor Tim had said that Mark was important. She had possibly seen some sort of demon and, to top it all off, she was away from Mark, who was having some kind of emotional problems. She thought about her dad’s faith, about Christianity, and what the preacher said on TV. She never took any of it seriously before, but the past 24 hours were beginning to change that.
Through the slightly parted curtains, Kathy could see two maple trees in the front yard. Then it struck her. There were two trees, just like at home in her garden. The one on the right was swaying very gently in the breeze; the other one was oddly still. She turned back to the ceiling, letting her mind wander.
There was a soft knock at the door.
“Yes?” she said as she started to get out of bed.
“You up?” asked John with a muffled voice.
“Yes, Dad. I’m up.”
“Okay, I’ll be eating cereal in the kitchen. Do you want any?”
Kathy smiled as she remembered how her father had always liked cereal for breakfast. “Yes, Dad, that would be great.”
John walked slowly to the kitchen, still hindered by acute pain, but managing quite well. Kathy started getting dressed and went into the bathroom to make herself presentable before finally heading to the kitchen.
“There you are. I thought you fell in to some girl-makeup-void. How’d you sleep?”
“I slept surprisingly well,” she replied with a glare of her eyes as her response to his feeble joke. “How about you?”
“I had one of the best night’s sleep I think I’ve ever had.” He smiled briskly as he poured some orange juice for Kathy. “I had the most wonderful dream.”
“Really? What was it?” Kathy was playing along.
“It’s when you’re asleep and you imagine and experience something and…”
“Dad!”
John adjusted his chair carefully towards her and with an excited smile began to tell her. “I dreamt that both you and Mark became Christians and that Mark was going to be used of God in a mighty way.” He stared at her, waiting for her reaction.
Normally she would dismiss what he said, but now it seemed a little bit more meaningful.
“That is very interesting,” she said. “But it was only a dream.” Secretly, s
he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something to it.
“It was a dream, a good one. And, if you don’t mind humoring this old man, I think I will relish it.” He reached over, grabbed Kathy’s wrist, and lovingly squeezed it. He got up slowly from the table, supported himself on it, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Church is about a half hour away. I can drive myself if you want to stay here.”
Though that sounded appealing, she’d have none of it. “No, I’ll come with you.” She was surprised at her newfound eagerness. “I don’t feel comfortable with you driving by yourself just yet.”
John washed out his bowl and glass in the sink and set them on the counter. Kathy watched him and could easily tell that he was joyful, in spite of his occasional pain and slowness of movement.
“You know something?” he said as he looked at Kathy, “I really am surprised at how good I feel and how much I have healed so far. This really is a miracle from God.” He tried clumsily to hop slightly in excitement, but the grimace on his face revealed how bad an idea it was. He looked at Kathy and with a smile said, “Ouch.”
Kathy grinned back, wondering what the service would be like.
***
A rip in space opened and a demon emerged, then another, and another. For about a minute, several distorted and grotesque creatures came flying through. Then the gap closed and they headed for the church.
***
Paraptome did not like inhabiting this insignificant carcass of a man. But its instructions were to kill the pastor, and it knew better than to resist the unholy one from whom it had personally received its orders.
The devil was a maliciously evil creature that could deliver the severest of punishments for the slightest infraction, without an iota of remorse. The last time Paraptome had been summoned by the vile master, it had been careful to always look down, crawling as it obeyed every command. If wickedness was a force like gravity, then Paraptome had felt the intense black hole of evil itself. The principality was completely given over to hatred, malice, and corruption. But its own wickedness paled before the undulating waves of cold, calculating malevolence that emanated from the great Fallen One. Its evil intensity was matched only by its power and ability to inflict agonizing pain in ways that Paraptome feared in the deepest part of its being. To be summoned to the devil’s lair was terrifying, but it was nothing compared to the wrath that followed if the Evil One was disobeyed.
So, Paraptome was enduring this fool of a man for the time being; that is, until the killing was done. Afterwards, it would free itself from the wretched creature and fall back into the dark pit, maybe taking Leech with it.
As it thought about the pastor, a seething repugnance filled its dark soul. It desired desperately to lash out in unrestrained anger against Leech, just to satisfy its own cruel appetite. But it would not, lest it damage the man and fail its master. For the time being, Paraptome needed this slave unharmed.
Leech had found a car in an alley behind the grocery store he had spotted the day before. It was an old Ford and was a model he was familiar with. He knew how to hotwire it quickly. Parking his own car a couple hundred feet away, he walked a circuitous path to the sedan, making sure he wasn’t being watched. This would be easy. As he approached the vehicle, he put on some thick latex gloves so as not to leave any fingerprints. He wore a baseball cap and overalls. Once he had killed the pastor and fled, he would take the gloves, the overalls, and his shoes and throw them in a trash bin on his way back to pick up his car. He was wearing pants and a T-shirt underneath the overalls and had another pair of shoes in his vehicle. He had planned well.
Leech used a Slim Jim to unlock the car door. He quickly slipped inside, closed the door, and bent forward under the dashboard. In just about a minute the car spurted to life. He checked to see if the coast was clear, put the vehicle in reverse, backed out of the space, and headed off towards the church. He wanted to find a strategic place to park before anyone else got there, to ensure an easy escape.
***
Mark was heading into town when he finally saw the Seventh Heaven Motel. It was about 7:30 in the morning and although he was tired, he still felt awake enough to go straight to the church. It was a typical motel, nothing special about it. The sign was a bit ragged and weatherworn, but the place seemed nice enough. He parked his car and headed into the lobby. The bell rang loudly on the counter. From the back room, an elderly woman slowly made her way forward. She used a cane.
“May I help you?” she said in raspy voice.
“I’m from out of town and need to get cleaned up for an appointment this morning. Frank, the tow truck driver, told me to stop by here and mention his name. He said you’d give me a discount.”
The woman nodded, expressionless, and turned around to a rack full of keys. She selected one and slowly made her way back to the counter. She held out her hand as if asking for Mark’s. He extended his. “May the Lord be with you,” she said as she dropped the key into his hand. “It’s room number seven. It’s outside, three doors down on the right. No charge.” She smiled and said, “I’ll be praying for you.” She turned around and slowly disappeared through the same door she entered.
Mark stood there staring at the empty doorway as he tried to make sense of things. He looked out the window at his car and back to the empty door. Everything was completely silent.
He retrieved his bag from the car trunk and found the room. It was tidy, nothing special. He tossed his bag on the bed. “Sotare? I’m here.”
Silence.
He checked in the bathroom and even looked under the bed. Why was he sent here? Would Sotare appear or would someone knock on the door and give him some mysterious instructions? The clock on the desk next to the TV read 7:35. He didn’t have much time before church started, according to what Kathy had told him over the phone. Sitting down on the bed, Mark thought about what would happen in the next couple of hours. He was filled with a mixture of emotions and an increasing need to sleep, not to mention his great concern for his wife. Would anyone get hurt? Would he? Would the pastor be okay? Would Kathy be all right? The questions were like keys opening doors of confusion and despair. He forced his mind away from them and shook his head to fight off the sleep that was so perpetually seeking to master him.
He unzipped his bag, pulled out his toiletries, a fresh shirt and pants, laid them on the bed, stripped, and headed into the shower. Five minutes later, he was drying himself off.
The mirror bore the grim image of his tired face. He was unshaven and baggy-eyed and his lack of sleep was clearly visible. How easy it would be to lie down on the bed and drift off to sleep, but he knew he couldn’t risk even a moment’s rest. There was no way he would miss the church service. He shook off his growing exhaustion while he shaved, and continued to wonder why he was sent here. In a few minutes, he was dressed and ready to go.
He packed his bag and set it on the floor next to the bed. He sat down on the covers and waited. He closed his eyes. God, why am I here? He prayed silently. Do you want me to stay here? Will my wife be okay? Where is Sotare? He had a laundry list of questions.
He sat on the edge of the bed, pondering where he was, what had happened, and why he was there. His breathing slowed. The bed was soft. It felt good. With his eyes still closed, he continued to offer prayers to God, feeling inadequate and awkward. His breathing slowed even more. His head drooped a little. He shook it off and focused on a point on the opposite wall while he thought of Kathy. After a few moments, the soft edges of fatigue began to overtake him. He resisted them, but they were pleasant and welcome. He tried to offer up another prayer, but it was disjointed and unfocused. His breathing was shallow. He tried to utter a few more words of silent prayer, but his mind was too foggy, too tired to focus. He opened his eyes and looked at the door, halfway expecting a knock. He closed his eyes again and tried to pray a little more. He thought of Kathy, of surprising her…of Kathy and her father…driving…the church…he needed to…. He exhaled in short breaths. It
felt good to relax. Then, without realizing it, he very slowly fell back on the bed, asleep.
***
Pastor Tim had arrived at the church early. Shortly afterwards, Allen showed up and went straight to his office.
“Good morning, Pastor.”
Tim was leaning back in his chair, holding a football trophy he’d gotten in college.
“Are we playing football after church today?” joked Allen.
Tim smiled and set it back on a shelf. “Just thinking about challenges and what it takes to be victorious.”
Pastor Tim’s Bible was on the desk on top of the neatly stacked sermon notes.
“Everyone on the prayer team has heard about our dreams. The good Lord has gotten an earful this morning.” Allen smiled.
“Thanks. I believe we really do need it, especially today.”
“Yep,” said Allen casually.
The two men looked at each other, not sure what to say. Allen broke the awkward silence.
“You said that you are going to fill me in on some details. Is now a good time?”
With a sigh, Tim replied, “Yeah, now is as good a time as any. Pull up a chair.”
Outside the church, a host of winged demons hovered like vultures, circling slowly over the church, waiting for the arrival of Paraptome.
***
“Come on, Kathy. I don’t want to be late.”
“I’m right behind you, Dad,” she said rather crisply. “For someone who’s recovering from surgery, you sure are revved up.”
They both headed out the front door. Though John was sore, he was doing quite well, politely motioning his daughter through the door so he could lock up. He was always the gentleman. Reassured by the clank of the deadbolt that the door was securely locked, he carefully negotiated the front steps.
Kathy had already made her way down them and hurried to open up the passenger side of the car for her father. She watched him as he approached the steps. Below them, a demon was crouching next to some bushes. It stood up, opened its wings, then took a step towards John, extending its clawed hands as it reached for John’s head. Just as the demon was about to touch him, Ramah swooped from the sky, crashed into the demon from behind, and sent both of them rolling into the yard. He gripped it behind the neck and held it in a headlock. The creature growled and clawed at the angel’s arm, violently kicking and flapping its wings. But Ramah clasped it powerfully, squeezing tighter and tighter, wrapping his legs around the waist of the demon and bending its head back further and further. Then he reached for the demon’s wings and with deliberate and intense determination wrenched one of them until it cracked. The creature shuddered in pain and growled with a roar. Ramah released it abruptly and the creature fell to the ground, shuddering convulsively as it slowly sank beneath the grass. He turned in time to see John and Kathy driving away.
The Influence (Supernatural Thriller) Page 27