It couldn’t be.
He was older and heavier, but…
My eyes tracked him as he walked toward the dock. I didn’t move, not even when the driver behind me started hitting the horn.
I pulled over and took in a deep breath.
The airport would have to wait.
CHAPTER 30
I spotted him again in front of one of the boats, squatting down and studying a row of coolers. He pointed to a fish and a young guy nodded and wrapped it up in paper. Money was exchanged and the package went into the wagon.
It had been a long time.
Simon.
Simon, the chef slash scientist who had befriended me when I was held captive at that house all those years ago. The same house where Nathaniel had been in last night’s vision. Despite what my eyes were telling me, I still couldn’t believe it was him.
He couldn’t hide behind the extra weight. I knew it was still him. But he looked older, much older than the six or so years since I had last seen him would account for. His hair had turned completely gray and his skin was worn and wrinkled. The years had been hard. But that was understandable. The last I had heard, Simon had been convicted and sent to prison for his part in my kidnapping and false imprisonment.
The dock was crowded so it was easy to blend in while I followed him. Each boat had stations set up with large bins and long collapsible tables. People packed in tight, looking at all the different fish, shrimp, conch, oysters, and crabs.
At one point my stomach plunged when Simon suddenly spun around and walked straight toward me. I turned at the last second, avoiding his eyes, and held my breath. He brushed past me, our shoulders touching, but he kept going.
“Hey, amigo, you have any rock lobster?”
Hearing his voice sealed the deal. It was Simon all right.
“Those are out of season,” the fisherman said.
“I know, but I’ll make it worth your while.”
Simon pulled out a wad of cash.
“Hold tight,” the fisherman whispered. “I’ll see what I can do.”
As I stared at him the memories came flooding back. Sitting in that massive kitchen while he chopped, sautéed, seared, and talked about the importance of using fresh organic herbs and produce. Showing me how to make risotto, how to keep stirring while it cooked over the heat.
At a time when every meal felt like it might be my last, Simon had ignited my passion for cooking. He had been the only one on that island to show me any kindness. He had even tried to help me escape.
But he had also made some bad choices.
He had been part of Nathaniel’s research team, ready and willing to murder in the name of science. No matter how much I had liked him, it didn’t change those facts.
The fisherman returned and handed Simon a large bag.
“Keep it fresh, my man,” Simon said before carefully placing the bag under his other purchases.
What was he doing here? Sure, he could have been a chef at one of the local restaurants, but that was just too much of a coincidence. He had to be here for the same reason I was.
Because of Nathaniel.
He was still working for him. There was no other logical explanation.
Samael had been right. My vision had been correct.
Simon walked over to a chowder stand, ordered a cup, and as I watched him eat, I wondered how many of the others were here. The old crew. Ready to do Nathaniel’s bidding.
“I found you, you bastard,” I whispered with an excitement I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. “I found you.”
CHAPTER 31
Samael watched the ancient shadow take slow, deliberate steps up the hill, using his scythe for balance. He saw the long black robe dragging behind, igniting plants and shrubs as it brushed past, leaving small fires along the trail.
As the figure closed in, the air collapsed like water down a whirlpool.
Samael noticed that Lucifer was much larger and darker than before. Time had made him strong. His face was the color of mold, his lips black as night. A terrible stench filled the space between them.
Samael held his tongue as he watched him come closer. At least he had come alone. A sign of respect.
“Samael,” the evil whispered. “Was that you I heard calling?”
Samael said nothing, but the Dark One did not take it personally. He had the patience of an ocean crashing upon the shore, wearing down rocks into pebbles into sand, one wave at a time.
“Your Rachel was a beautiful soul,” he said, the heat in his words slicing through the heavy snow that had begun falling between them. Samael looked away. “Strange that He would allow such brutality to be inflicted upon someone so close to you. Or, perhaps, He did more than just allow it.”
Samael’s head turned, his eyes blue-hot flames. Still he held his words.
“But, of course, you have considered this already. I heard that He was not happy with your recent performance. Perhaps He wished for her to stop distracting you from your duties. Do you think her Jewishness played a part, that she would not prostrate herself before the Nazarene? Perhaps He…”
“Stop, demon,” Samael finally said forcefully. “Your words are lies. He did not have her killed.”
“You are right,” Lucifer said, taking a step closer. “But at the very least, it’s clear that He and his loving Son did nothing to stop her murder or ease her suffering. And what suffering it was.”
The demon turned away, hiding a smile.
“Do not insult me with your false empathy,” Samael said. “Save your words. The poison that drips from your mouth holds no dominion over me.”
“Forgive me, my old friend,” the Prince of Darkness said, taking in the view. “You need more time. I will return when you are ready to hear what I have to say, how I will help you punish those responsible.”
Samael stared into the snake eyes and started to say something, but swallowed his words. The demon leaned up against a tree and watched as smoke lifted off the burning bark, melting snowflakes.
Knowing he was close, the dark spirit watched as the wounded angel teetered like a stone needing one more nudge before falling into the abyss. He licked his lips in anticipation.
Samael would be his, an Angel of the Fifth Order.
He turned to leave but stopped.
“I heard it as it happened, Samael,” he said. “Her sweet screams echoed down in Infernus. All night she called out for you. How is it you did not hear?”
The words stabbed Samael sharper than any sword. It was the thing that had haunted him most, how he had not come to her aid. That he had heard nothing. That he had not saved her from any of it.
“Come with me, Samael. I will not hold you back. You will have my blessing to kill them all. Your beloved will be avenged. Come, let us spill their blood. Let us paint the city red with justice.”
Feeling the strong pull of temptation, Samael took in the image and nodded.
“There is something else,” Samael said, his eyes opening.
“What is it, my servant?”
“I want all this to end,” Samael said with a sweep of his hand toward the city below. “I want to see this Empire crumble and disappear from the face of the earth.”
The black lips curled upwards, bright against the snow.
“As you wish,” the demon said, offering a hand. “Seal it and it shall be so.”
“One more thing,” Samael said.
“Yes?”
“I want the gates of your kingdom closed to Natavius. Forever.”
“I normally do not turn away any souls,” the Angel of Darkness said. “But in this case I will make an exception.”
Frozen teardrops fell from the heavens in the hollow night as Samael knelt in front of Lucifer and kissed his hand.
CHAPTER 32
I kept a safe distance as Simon crossed the highway back toward the parking lot. He started loading his things into a small white car. I got close enough to see his license plate and then ran to my bike
, starting it just as he pulled out.
I didn’t worry about being spotted, not with a motorcycle helmet over my head, so I stayed nice and close. Still, I needed to be patient. I couldn’t expect that he would lead me straight to Nathaniel just like that. But I felt certain that eventually he would.
After a few miles Simon turned into the Marathon Marina, parked, unloaded his supplies, and walked toward the docks. I followed, ducking behind cars now and then when it looked like he might turn around. But after he left the parking lot and headed to the waterfront, I ran out of places to hide. There was no one else around on the dock and if he turned around now, he would surely see me. The only question would be whether or not he would recognize me after all this time.
He passed boat after boat until it seemed that he must surely be lost, but then he stopped in front of the very last vessel at the end of the pier, a giant yacht. He called to someone on board and a moment later a man came out to help him with his supplies. A middle-aged woman was looking down at them from the upper deck.
The name of the yacht was Fish & Chicks. If Nathaniel was on board, it was the perfect cover. If Simon hadn’t led me here, I never would have looked past the name. Not in a million years.
The boat’s engine was running like it had either just arrived or was about to leave. I got as close as I could and then boarded a nearby sailboat that appeared to be deserted and hunkered down out of sight.
“Are we ready to go?” Simon asked, looking up.
“Just about,” the woman said. “Phil called a minute ago. He picked up a lab rat. They’re in the parking lot.”
Phil.
Another one of Nathaniel’s old thugs. The adrenaline raced through me like food through a goose.
A moment later I heard other voices, coming from the opposite direction. I turned and recognized Phil right away. Unlike Simon, he looked exactly as I remembered, tall with thick creepy glasses. But he wasn’t carrying a cage with a rodent inside. He was walking with a younger man who was wearing cargo shorts and two expensive-looking cameras dangling from around his neck.
As the two men passed I hugged the deck, lying as flat as a stingray in hopes they wouldn’t see me.
“There she is.” I tensed when I heard Phil’s voice but then realized he wasn’t talking about me. “Last boat on the end.”
“Whoa, that’s a helleva beautiful boat.”
“That she is, Andy. I’ll give you the full tour when we get on board. Remember, get a lot of photos of the interior, too. Potential buyers will want to see all that exquisite woodwork. And make sure to get plenty of shots of the, uh, chicks soaking up the sun, drinking, laughing, having a good time.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. Man, I can’t believe this. Talk about a dream job. Are the babes on board now?”
“Not yet. We’re picking them up down at Sugarloaf.”
“Sweet.”
I raised my head slowly to get a better view, my mind racing to place the name. Sugarloaf. Had I seen it on a map? I wasn’t sure. In any case, Phil was probably lying. If this photographer was in fact a guinea pig, why would he tell him the truth? Maybe there weren’t even any women.
A sense of desperation suddenly erupted inside me and blew apart the excitement I had felt just minutes before. I knew Simon and Phil would lead me to Nathaniel. I couldn’t afford to lose them because I might not get another chance. But what could I do? I thought about trying to sneak on board but that would be suicide. There was no way I could pull it off without being spotted.
Phil and the photographer boarded the yacht and stood talking to Simon. A minute later Phil unmoored the boat and it began to move away from the dock.
“Shit,” I said, the desperation turning to hopelessness.
I got to my feet and bit down on my lip, drawing blood. Then I stood there and watched the boat head out of the marina.
Without me.
CHAPTER 33
The yacht was moving through the water slowly, but not as slow as my brain. I couldn’t think of what to do. And then something finally came to me. I remembered what the old guy back at the motel had said about renting a boat. I was sure I could rent one somewhere here on these docks and follow the Fish & Chicks.
Okay, but then what?
I wasn’t James Bond or some Navy SEAL. Did I really think I would be able to pull up to the yacht without being seen or heard while it was out at sea and then somehow sneak on board? And what about the ocean? Things looked calm enough close to shore, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be large waves on the open sea that would take me out. No, the more I thought about it, the more my doubts grew. And for good reason. The whole thing was crazy.
I shook my head and then headed back to my bike, stopping a few times to catch a glimpse of the yacht as it got smaller and smaller. My money was now all riding on Sugarloaf and that somehow Phil had been telling the truth. It wasn’t the best situation, but it was something.
I would intercept them at Sugarloaf.
Of course, I still didn’t know where that was or how fast a boat like that could travel, but I was hoping I had enough time. On my way out of the parking lot I spotted a large wooden map of the Keys and stopped.
There it was, Sugarloaf Key. From the scale of the map it appeared to be about fifty miles away. That should give me at least a couple of hours.
I went over what I knew. I had had a vision that placed Nathaniel here in Marathon and although I hadn’t seen him, I had just seen Simon and Phil, two of his old employees. There was no way it was a coincidence. No way. Nathaniel had to be close by.
I also knew the name of the yacht. So even if it wasn’t heading to Sugarloaf Key, I would still have something to go on.
I thought about how close I had come to leaving. If I hadn’t seen Simon at the last minute…
I was still worried about Ty, but I told myself that the best thing I could do for him and everyone else I loved was to stay here and destroy Nathaniel.
I stopped at a sporting goods store and picked up a pair of binoculars and some more pepper spray. I also bought a serrated folding knife to go along with the small paring knife I had been carrying all these months, ever since I found it at the bottom of the kitchen sink back in that shelter in El Paso. The new knife had a spring that allowed it to flip open and came with a belt clip. I tried to think of what else I would need if I was lucky enough to get on board that yacht and decided on a couple of lighters, a flashlight, and some marine flares.
As I rode south on U.S. Highway 1 toward Sugarloaf Key, I thought about what Nathaniel was doing here. The only thing I could come up with was that he was still working on his research and a serum that would bring the dead back to life.
In his Dr. Frankenstein worldview it made sense when he was alive, but it paled in comparison to his current project. Surely he had found bigger fish to fry, leading a dark army of body snatchers back from the dead. Maybe it was just his ego. Maybe he couldn’t let it go. Or maybe he was covering all his bases, going “green” to the extreme, working on recycling dead souls and dead bodies.
After a while my mind shifted gears and went back to Samael and our argument. Part of me wanted to share the news with him, but what would be the point? Nothing had changed. Not really. I wanted to believe that he was moving away from the darkness and toward a better path and yet the evidence suggested and sometimes screamed the opposite.
The anger I had felt in the morning was gone, replaced now by sadness over our breakup and uncertainty about what to do next. The only thing I knew for sure was that I was now alone in this.
Completely alone.
“Damn it, Samael,” I said to the shimmering water. “I could really use some help right about now.”
CHAPTER 34
Samael finally came down from the hill.
A thousand years had gone by.
A thousand years of darkness.
Like him, Rome had fallen, but it had brought him no satisfaction.
For his par
t, Lucifer had kept his word. He had closed off Hell to Natavius, even though that is where God had condemned him to go time and time again.
Samael settled his score with the magistrate and his henchmen, but it had left him feeling hollow and empty. No matter how much blood he spilled, it was never enough.
It could never bring Rachel back.
Slowly, Samael let go of his anger toward God. There must be a reason, he told himself. Maybe one day he would understand. For now all he knew was that he needed to return to his purpose, to serve Heaven.
If Heaven would have him.
He wandered the countryside and eventually made his way up to Florence, where a rebirth was taking place. It gave him a measure of hope that maybe he, too, could be reborn, that even with the terrible sins that stained his soul, he could somehow find redemption and his way back into the light.
There were still nights when his tears flowed like a river, when all he could hear were her cries, when the dawn was a million miles away, when the irony of his eternal punishment was not lost on him. He was condemned to hear and see all that he had missed that day.
Slowly, he also came to see what he had known from the first moment his eyes had found her: she was the light. She was the face of God. And Samael realized that he needed to start making his way back toward that light. Her spirit was eternal and it was out there somewhere. She was still waiting for him. There were times, when he heard the song of the cicadas or when the scent of rosemary floated on the breeze, when he let himself believe that they would be together again. Perhaps at the end of time. He would wait that long for her. At least that long.
He repeated the prayer daily that he had first whispered that night in the garden when he thought he would never see her again.
“Just to see her once more… Oh, God, just once more.”
He looked down over Florence and marveled at its beauty. The architecture was truly inspired, as if God himself had had a hand in its design.
Forty-Four Book Thirteen (44 13) Page 8