Before the separation of the 19 from the main group occurred, Amos arranged the death of Dr. Bernice Fine and had it staged to appear accidental. She was a threat from the start, vowing to expose the group if anyone deviated from their original charter. In retrospect, this had worked out perfectly. It meant the Blue Council was down by one, and, by virtue of their charter, needed to bring on a new member to keep the headcount at 39—the same number of books in the Old Testament—the same number of lashes Jesus received from the Romans prior to the crucifixion. As soon as the void was filled and the quota achieved, the new member separated from the main body. The circumstances had played out even better than Amos could have dreamed.
Subsequently, Amos had learned of collusion by two of the dissenters who planned to cut the others out and keep the prize for themselves. He resolved the problem by making Officer Miles Nasherton’s and Park Ranger Martin Johns’ deaths also appear accidental.
Now, Amos stood stoically at the foot of the manmade pond inside the insulated structure with the other fragmented members by his side. Only Judges was absent.
Joshua and Samuel had been the ones to extract the information from the monk in Bolivia. The monk had conveyed that in order for the process to work to its fullest extent, the participants would need to enter the water all at once and form a tight circle in the middle. Only then should the Fish be submerged between them. The monk had said the presence of the subjects at the same time the Fish was in the water was all that was necessary. He also warned that the Fish could only be used to perform the process once every two years.
Despite the fact the information was gained under duress when most men were incapable of lying, Amos was wary. He decided to take a careful approach. Only one member would enter the water, and then the Fish would be placed in it. If all went well, that one member would be the first to enjoy a life that would render him or her invincible for several centuries and a healthy existence which would go for an indeterminable number of years. Of course, this meant they would all have to wait several years to take their turn. Amos saw this as a small sacrifice given the virtual immortality gained and untold wealth they would reap once they marketed the Fish’s ability to others.
With the news that Amos was only allowing one person to partake of the Fish’s power, most of the members had disqualified themselves, content to watch the proceedings and take their turn in a few years. Only Esther and Joshua were willing to risk going first, which led to a drawing of straws. Esther came out the winner.
The 63-year-old woman removed her white robe and laid it carefully on the grass. She was naked, and her pale body looked terribly fragile. Joshua, the not-so-gracious loser, held the ladder in place while Esther climbed down into the pond. She stood at the base, ankle deep in water. Joshua looked down on her with disdain. He pulled the ladder up. She slowly sloshed through the water and arrived at the center of the dark pool.
Amos began, “All, we are about to embark on a journey unlike any modern man has ever undertaken. Esther will be the first.” He raised the Fish over his head. “With this creature, we will extend Esther’s life so that she may enjoy all the benefits this world has to offer. In time, we will all follow in her footsteps and claim the riches equally.” He looked down as he held the Fish out. “To you, Esther. Hark the word of God and be blessed. Divine is His life. Go forth and walk this Earth for many days in peace and good health, and shout His name from the rafters.”
Amos released the Fish. It floated down like a feather, its light weight causing it to flutter from one side to the other. It took several seconds of collective silence for the creature to reach the surface where the anticipation ended.
Harsh reality took over.
There was a horrendous screech, followed by a percussive blast and a blitz of blue light. Amos and several of the other members were hurled backward into the wall. For a moment, he thought his eardrums had burst. Pain radiated from his back from the impact as he stood on wobbling legs and tried to gather himself.
Nightmarish cries of pain rose from below and water splashed madly.
Amos reluctantly moved toward the edge, followed by Joshua. His ears still ached. Soon, all the members encircled the pool. A horrific scene had erupted below. Esther had been sent sprawling, landing at the base of the wall in the shallow water. The Fish, now intact with flesh and scales, was eviscerating the woman, its carnivorous teeth taking in every inch of skin it could reach beneath the waterline. Esther slapped and clawed at the water, shrieking incoherently, unable to get even the briefest reprieve from the creature’s attack. She tried in vain to push herself up. Blood gushed into the pool of water, spreading ominously like a cloud of red death.
Amos was aghast when he realized she was sinking.
No, not sinking. She was being consumed!
“Get the ladder to that side!” he yelled at Joshua.
Joshua grabbed the ladder, moved awkwardly to the other side, and lowered it.
“Go down and get her out!”
Looking down, Joshua suddenly stopped. The screams had ceased, and all Amos could hear was his own labored breathing. He looked below into the brownish-red pool of water.
There was nothing solid left of Esther. The last few chunks of flesh were disappearing among tumultuous swirls.
The Fish with its globular white eyes swam in place just below the surface: slowly, meticulously, flapping its fins. Even through the stained water, Amos could see its gaze was turned upward toward them, as if evaluating their worthiness as prey. An uncontrollable shudder radiated through his chest.
The Bolivian monk had lied. He had tried to get all of them in the water with the Fish at the same time, knowing none would survive. He had set them up and would be dealt with severely in due time.
Worse, the spring water was now contaminated by Esther’s body fluids. The thought of ever drinking from it again turned Amos’ stomach. Without the water, or the knowledge of how to use the Fish correctly, they would be condemned to the same paltry lifespan of any other human.
The anger rose in Amos like fire.
It was time to utilize the resources at his disposal and lure Judges back into the fold.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Wednesday, August 17, 3:51 p.m. – St. Augustine, Florida
Curt, Scott, and Sherri returned to Curt’s hotel room discouraged. Frankly, Scott could not have cared less about the fate of the Fish. It was secondary to the professor’s and Sydney’s safe return. Scott mourned the thought of what might have become of his friend. The professor’s disappearance was clearly tied to the Fish. They had painted a target on him by leaving the creature in his kitchen. It was a bitter pill to swallow to think he and Curt had led them right to the professor’s doorstep. If only they had an idea of who the Blue Council were, even one member, they could confront them and get the police involved. Although, given the unnatural events and the dodgy manner by which they had obtained the Fish, it would take a considerable amount of explaining before they would get the support of the authorities.
At this point, Scott was willing to take the law into his own hands if it would mean Marvin’s safe return.
He looked at his watch discouragingly. In just over two hours, they would be forced to evacuate the city.
****
Sherri and Curt left at quarter till six to pick up Tina from the babysitter. Curt volunteered to drive while Scott remained behind waiting for their dinner to be delivered. They had found one pizza joint still open and delivering.
After dinner, Sherri planned to drive Tina north and evacuate to Georgia. This would keep them out of harm’s way of the second storm, Hurricane Elena, which was expected to make landfall on the western side of the state hours before Hurricane Fernando hit Northeast Florida.
Sherri told Curt that the babysitter, Jeannie Coy, lived in the heart of St. Augustine, not far from the hotel in the residential district behi
nd St. George Street and several blocks from Curt’s former residence. She was a matronly woman in her sixties. A lifelong resident of St. Augustine, the retired school teacher had been recommended by City Commission Manager Harvey Shottier.
“Tina seems like a great kid,” Curt commented as they slipped into his Mustang.
Sherri smiled. “She’s everything to me. You know I regretted making up that kidnapping story Monday morning after the meeting with the city, but you were being such a butthead.”
“Yeah, I know,” Curt said as he started the engine and pulled onto San Marco Avenue. He turned and smiled at her, but her expression had grown rigid. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh, nothing really. It’s just that when Tina was three, her father Jerry and I divorced. He paid child support for two years, then he lost his job, and we haven’t seen or heard from him since. I have no idea what has become of him. I’ll never understand how he could completely disregard the existence of his child. At this point, though, I’m glad he’s not around to interfere in our lives.
“One month after Tina’s fifth birthday, I took her to a pediatric center because of a severe headache which had lingered for 36 hours. The doctor referred Tina to the emergency room.
“After a CAT scan and MRI, she was admitted to the hospital. The results left the neurologists baffled. The good news was that there were no tumors.
“What made Tina’s case so unique was that she was experiencing inflammation and fluid buildup in the cerebellum at the base of her skull. The doctors referred to the source of the problem as an unusual form of post-viral infection. A spinal tap ruled out any form of meningitis or leukemia, so the only action was to let it run its course and continue to administer narcotics for pain. Three days later, Tina was released from the hospital with medication which made her care manageable from home. Within a week, the headaches were gone altogether.
“Those days and nights Tina spent in the hospital were the most traumatic of my life. I never left her side except to take an occasional stroll to stretch my legs or catch a bite to eat.
“Since that scare two years ago, I cherish every moment with Tina. I constantly remind myself how easily the doctor could have come back into the hospital room after the MRI and informed me Tina had a brain tumor or told me after the spinal tap that something terminal was detected, but Tina had been spared. That’s exactly how I feel about it. God had saved my little girl, and that’s why I felt a pang of resentment for making up that story and using my daughter as the focal point to take a jab at you.”
Curt gave her a warm smile as he turned left on Park Street. “I’m sure God thought it was funny, too.”
“That’s it.” Sherri pointed to the ranch-style dwelling. “It’s the third house on the left with the black mailbox. That’s odd. I don’t see Ms. Coy’s car.”
Curt pulled into the driveway and parked. Sherri was out of the car before he turned off the engine. He had had no intention of going to the door, but something told him to accompany her. He climbed out and chased after her. A warm wind met them head on as they walked rapidly up the sidewalk. The clouds overhead had turned dark and angry.
Sherri reached the porch. She was about to push the doorbell when Curt pointed down at the mat. There was an envelope addressed to Sherri. Ms. Coy must have had an errand to run and took Tina with her, Curt thought. It’s a note to let Sherri know when they will be back.
Sherri anxiously bent down and retrieved the envelope, opened it quickly, and extracted a single sheet of paper.
Sherri looked up at Curt with a mortified expression. Her eyes rimmed with tears.
“Sherri, what is it?”
She handed the note to him.
Curt read it aloud. “Tina will forever be one of God’s children, whether on this earth or in heaven. Do not go to the police, or you will seal her doom.”
****
When Sydney received the email with the picture of little Tina Falco bound in a chair, he knew it was game over. He had immediately driven up from Ocala with his cargo and had willfully given himself up to Amos and the dissenting members that afternoon. While he might have tried to negotiate for Sherri’s life, the fragmented Blue Council members had done the one thing he did not anticipate: they had gone after Sherri’s daughter. Even if it meant his own death and revealing the information he hoarded, he was not about to let Tina die at the hands of these people he had once trusted. He knew what they were capable of. Their insatiable hunger was only growing.
When he had arrived with his captive, it only took a moment for Amos to make the same connection Sydney had made. Thus, Sydney was spared from torture and interrogation. Afterward, he overheard Amos and the members planning a ceremony for this evening. Strangely, he had not seen Esther since arriving and wondered if the woman had also met with an accidental death. This was a group organized for greed, and distrust ran rampant. It was this very reason, and more, that he had sought to bow out, but Amos would not allow it.
Siding with this group had been the worst mistake of his life.
Now, as he sat restrained in a chair, his head covered in cloth, he had yet to hear of Tina Falco’s fate. With a sinking feeling, he realized Amos’ assurance of her safety had been yet another lie.
Sydney had lost all control of the situation. With bitter remorse, he now realized he never had it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Wednesday, August 17, 8:10 p.m. – St. Augustine, Florida
Scott and Curt sat in Sherri’s hotel room. Sherri paced, a hand to her mouth, absently chewing on a fingernail. Anxiety tightened her features. Her slice of pizza had long grown cold. She had no appetite. Curt grabbed her hand on the next pass and gently pulled her to the edge of the bed to take a seat beside him. Then he hugged her, and she buried her head in his chest and wept. Her heart ached.
“We’re going to find her, Sherri,” he tried to console her.
“Why? Why did someone take her? And what happened to Ms. Coy?” Sherri pleaded the questions as if somehow Curt might magically know all the answers.
A song began playing from Sherri’s purse on the table. She jumped up and fished her cell phone out. Then, seeing the name on the caller ID, she wilted. It was the vice president of Mosset Public Relations. For a moment, she considered letting it go to voice mail, but there was something gnawing at her. She picked up on the sixth ring.
“Hello,” she answered.
“Sherri? It’s Charlene Willingham. Sorry to call after hours, but Lincoln Mosset is out of town, and I wanted to follow up with you to see how St. Augustine is going. I hope you’ve evacuated by now.”
“Yes,” she lied, “I’m driving out of town now.”
“Well good. Did you get the revenue projections I emailed?”
Sherri broke down crying and pulled away from the phone momentarily.
“Sherri, are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, struggling to compose herself. There was no way she would attempt to explain to Charlene everything that had occurred. “I’m not feeling well this evening. Stomach problems.” Curt handed her a fresh tissue, and she accepted it. “Yes, I got your email.”
“I’m sorry to hear you’re not well. Any problems with the account?”
“No, I’m still in the early stages of discovery,” was all she could manage, swallowing back more tears. She was searching for a way to end the call when the question suddenly occurred to her. It was something that had bothered her ever since receiving this job assignment.
“Mrs. Willingham, why me? Why was I selected to come to Florida out of all the other associates in the company? I just lost a major client and, frankly, was expecting to be fired. The fact I’m from this area doesn’t give me any tactical advantage on this assignment.”
Willingham cleared her throat. “Sherri, I’m not at liberty to discuss Mr. Mosset’s strategy—”
“Charlene, I need to know!” Sherri erupted. “My daughter has disappeared!” Damn, she had said it. Her fear turned to anger. “If you withhold information that could lead me to find my daughter, so help me God, I’m going to the authorities with your name and—”
Willingham cut her off. “Oh my God! Have you notified the police?”
“Charlene,” Sherri fought to suppress another outburst, “please...”
“Sherri, I’m sure the two...situations...are unrelated. Nevertheless, you were requested by the client.”
“The City of St. Augustine?”
Scott and Curt looked at each other.
“Yes, they wrote the contract so only you would be on the account. The contract’s null and void if you’re removed. The City got a referral, but Lincoln didn’t say from whom. We normally don’t tell associates this information as it gives them...well…leverage in asking for pay raises and such, and it’s information they don’t need to know in order to do their—”
Sherri hung up before she finished. Her face screwed up in a puzzled expression.
“St. Augustine specifically requested you,” Scott said. “That’s not uncommon. You must have done good work for another client and were referred.”
“I’ve never done PR work for a city, state, or federal project. I can’t imagine who the referral would have come from, and Willingham didn’t know either.” Sherri wiped her eyes again.
Curt chimed in, “Sherri, I hate to suggest this, but could Sydney have been into something he shouldn’t have? Something illegal?”
“Not Uncle Sydney,” she said, shaking her head back and forth steadfastly.
Death in the Beginning (The God Tools Book 1) Page 19