The World in Shadow (Eternal Warriors Book 2)

by Vox Day

  “I only came because I didn’t want him to offend you by getting in your face too much,” she told him honestly. “But I guess I didn’t have to worry about that.”

  The boy laughed, not unpleasantly, and shook his head. He maybe did have a certain charm, Jami thought, if you could manage to look past the mind-boggling arrogance, the massive superiority complex, and, of course, the whole pyschotic mass murderer thing. She’d read somewhere that serial killers tended to be more intelligent than the average person, and after less than five minutes in this guy’s presence, she had no doubts it was true.

  “No one can offend me, blondie, because I just don’t give a fuck, all right? It’s not possible. And while I do appreciate your touching concern for my nonexistent soul, I’m telling you that you’re just wasting your time. There is no God, the concepts of good and evil are only man-made inventions, and the only hells that exist are those that people create for themselves here on this planet, understand? Do what thou wilt is the whole of the law—”

  “—I suppose you just forgot about the ‘due regard for the policeman around the corner’,” Christopher interrupted.

  “Oh, I’ll take Crowley over Maughm any day,” the killer said derisively, but his eyes glittered and Jami suspected he was starting to enjoy the conversation. “And like we were concerned about getting caught. The whole point was to take as many of those losers to Hell with us as we could.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in Hell?”

  The killer rolled his eyes.

  “It’s an expression, bitch.”

  Jami growled under her breath. He was so infuriating, and the stupid smirk on his face reminded her a little of the demonlord, Kaym. Every time the killer looked at her, he acted like he was looking at a bug or something. Finally, she lost her temper.

  “Don’t you even feel sorry for any of the people you shot? Don’t you realize how much pain you caused their poor families? Doesn’t that mean anything to you at all?”

  He only chuckled at her little rant.

  “It means nothing to me. Nothing! That’s what you don’t understand. There is no meaning to anything, so what you’re saying—it’s just words! Those poor families never gave a damn about me when their precious little babies were torturing people like me and Brien and every other idiot dumb enough to let on they had half a brain, so why should I give a damn about them?”

  Christopher reached out and grabbed her arm before she could respond. She tried to shrug off his hand, but he tightened his grip until she realized that she was out of control. Glaring at the boy, she slumped back in her chair and clamped her mouth firmly shut.

  “So… I don’t suppose you’d like a Gospel tract?” Christopher said lightly. “We have blue ones and red ones.”

  The killer burst out laughing.

  “You two are the strangest missionaries I’ve ever seen,” he told them. “I mean, you want to talk literature and I think she wants to, like, kick my ass or something.”

  “I think she probably does,” Christopher glanced sidelong at her. “But it'll pass.”

  The boy nodded, but his smile faded quickly.

  “All right, whatever. It’s been fun, but your style grows tiresome. Visitation’s almost up, and unless you can say something interesting in the next ten seconds, I think I’ll return to the spartan pleasures of my cell. Not a lot in the way of creature comforts there, but at least you don’t have to put up with listening to morons talking religious bullshit.

  “Fair enough,” Christopher nodded his head. “Okay, two words for you, then. No, it's just one word, actually. Bodycount.”

  The killer’s eyes narrowed, and he held up his hand. The guard stopped and looked down at her watch, then shrugged.

  “What do you mean by that?” he asked Christopher.

  “The police report said you fired sixty-seven rounds of twelve-gauge, but only fourteen people died. I’ll bet that’s bothering you. I’ll bet it bothers you that guys you really wanted to take down, guys you knew you took down, guys like Peterson and Schumacher, survived. And I'm the only one with the answer. So I'll make you a deal. Let me come visit you again and I'll tell you how.

  Jami watched closely as the killer folded his arms behind his head and leaned back, staring at her brother’s face. She couldn’t tell what he was trying to read there, but he was looking for something.

  “All right, then,” he said finally. “You can come back and fill me in on that. I’ve been chewing that one over for weeks, and I’ve got nothing. But it better be good!”

  Christopher smiled. “Oh, it's good. I'm sure you'll be surprised.”

  The killer nodded indifferently, then glanced over at her, but the cold smile that flickered across his lips didn’t touch his eyes.

  “You, blondie, I don’t so much want to see, unless it’s in my dreams. In which case, I think you’ll be dressed just a little bit differently, you know what I'm saying?”

  It took every ounce of her self-control not to flip him off. She smiled sweetly instead.

  “God bless you too,” she told him, feeling like the biggest hypocrite in the history of the world. Oh well, at least she didn’t cuss him out. Not that he didn’t deserve it, the evil creep!

  A second guard approached, and it was with a great feeling of relief that Jami stood up and prepared to leave. She couldn’t wait to get out of this place and get home; after ten minutes in Derek Wallace's presence, she felt like she needed a shower. His arrogant evil was like an aura radiating outward from him, tainting everything around it. But as they were leaving the room in the company of a uniformed guard, the killer unexpectedly held up a hand.

  “Wait,” he called.

  Jami and Christopher turned around, surprised.

  Derek spread out both hands, looking directly at Christopher.

  “Why did you come here?” he asked simply. “Seriously.”

  For the first time since their visit had begun, her brother’s voice was without any edge of sarcasm. He looked the killer directly in the face and held his gaze for a second before he spoke.

  “Because I’ve been what you’ve are, and I’ve been where you’ve are,” Christopher replied calmly. “That’s why.”

  He didn’t wait for a response, instead he turned his back on the other boy, took Jami’s hand, and led her from the room. She didn’t resist. Their ride home was long and silent; it wasn’t until they were pulling into the driveway that Jami felt like saying anything.

  “Christopher?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you really think there’s any hope for that guy? I mean, otherwise, what’s the point of going back there and talking to him again. He seems like a total waste.”

  Her brother turned the truck off, and she sat there next to him in the warm summer darkness, staring up at the star-filled night sky as she waited for him to answer. He made a thoughtful clucking noise with his tongue and shifted in his seat a few times before finally turning to face her. His face gleamed palely in the light shining down from above the garage door.

  “Look,” he said finally. “David was a murderer, and God used him. The apostle Paul was a murderer, more or less, but God still used him in a big way. And don’t forget, I’m not exactly innocent of that sort of thing myself.

  Jami grimaced. The golden face, the black blades, the predatory glide…. She hadn’t forgotten. Although it would be really nice if she could.

  “The thing is, every time, someone showed up to tell that person to turn away from their evil, and when they did, God found a way to use them. Now maybe God has a way to use Derek somehow, or maybe He doesn’t, but all I know is that I’m probably the only one who’s going to tell that guy what someone told me once. You can’t change what you’ve done, but you can change who you are.”

  Jami had a feeling that she knew exactly who Christopher was talking about.

  “Was it Jesus who told you that?” she asked him. “It sounds like something he would say!”

  He nodded
. “Unfortunately, I sort of rejected him at the time. I’m kind of hoping I’ll get the chance to apologize and tell him I thought better of it before we see him again in front of his Father’s throne.”

  He made a rueful face, and Jami couldn’t help smiling at her brother.

  “I’m pretty sure Jesus keeps up on things, being the Son of God and all.”

  She opened her door and hopped out of the truck. She had already slammed her door shut and was walking towards the front door when she realized he wasn’t following her. Frowning, she returned to the truck and knocked on his window.

  “Hey, aren’t you coming in?”

  “In a second. I just want to sit here and think for a while.”

  All right. She walked up to the front of the house and unlocked the door. When she turned back to look at him, she saw he had placed his hands over his eyes, and he was leaning forward on the steering wheel. Her heart swelled with a warm surge of affection for him. That’s right, you pray for him, big brother, she cheered him on silently. And I’ll pray for you, and Holli’ll pray for me, and that’s how we’ll survive everything the Prince of this world throws at us. And we will survive! Because we serve a mighty God!

  She raised a fist in salute to the night sky. You rule, God! Whatever it may be, let Your will be done!

  Chapter 35

  A Verdict is In

  Now my witness is in heaven; my advocate is on high. My intercessor is my friend as my eyes pour out tears to God; on behalf of a man he pleads with God as a man pleads for his friend.

  —Job 16:19-21

  Jami sat two rows back from Derek Wallace and his lawyer, immediately behind Derek’s parents and some other people who looked as if they were his relatives. It was a glorious day outside, but the mood in the courtroom was dark and angry. Emotions had been running high all morning since today marked the start of the long-awaited trial for what the national media had labled the Mounds Park Massacre. The small brick building was surrounded by television journalists, policemen, demonstrators, and lots of other people who were simply drawn to the presence of a crowd.

  Inside the crowded courthouse, the animated chatter of nearly two hundred people echoed loudly off the wooden floors. Some people were crying, some were almost shouting, and almost everyone was talking. Most of the people who’d been allowed inside the trial had a direct connection with the killings; many were members of the victims’ families and there were a few juniors and seniors Jami recognized from school. Some of them still bore scars from the attack, and one boy was in a wheelchair, which, according to the newspaper reports, he was unlikely to ever leave.

  How awful is that? She was thinking not only of the poor crippled guy, but also of Derek Wallace, who despite his disavowance of any guilt, had to be feeling something. How could you not feel anything about such a terrible thing, especially if it was all your fault? It was his fault, too, that she was here today, as he had specifically asked for Christopher to attend, and, strangely, Holli as well. Ever since that first disastrous visit, her brother had been visiting Derek regularly by himself. He went to the prison almost every week, in fact, although he refused to ever tell her anything about their conversations. So her brother’s invitation made sense, but she didn’t understand why Derek had asked for Holli to show up as well. Since her twin had agreed to attend the trial, Jami decided she had to go along too to provide moral support. She loved her brother, but despite the many wonderful changes in his life, he still wasn’t exactly a comfortable shoulder to cry on.

  Derek, sitting in the defendant’s seat, was wearing an expensive blue suit. His hair was cut a lot shorter than when she’d seen him at the prison and he didn’t seem to be nervous, although it was hard to see his face from where she was sitting. Two people had already been dragged out of the courtroom by the huge-armed security guards for shouting at him, but Derek hadn’t even blinked and Jami wondered if any of the commotion had even gotten through to him. He didn’t look around at all, he simply stared straight ahead at the high, imposing desk where the judge would soon be sitting. Of course, he had a lot to think about. Minnesota didn’t have the death penalty, but life in prison would be a near eternity for someone who was only eighteen years old.

  The jury entered, and several of them glanced curiously at Derek, who ignored them completely. He didn’t look up, and Jami had the idea that his mind was off somewhere else altogether. What could he be thinking about? She glanced at Christopher, who was tapping his fingers impatiently on the polished wooden bench. Her brother had been angered earlier by a homemade sign he’d seen a demonstrator carrying on their way into the courthouse, calling for an appallingly medieval form of execution, and he still seemed pretty worked up about it.

  “What’s wrong,” she whispered, leaning across Holli.

  “Nothing, really,” he said, shaking his head. “I was just thinking that, when you see those angry faces outside, you can understand why the Lord says vengeance belongs to him.”

  Holli was listening too.

  “They only hate like that because they hurt, Christopher. Because of what he did. Because of what they lost.”

  “I know, I know,” he agreed quietly. “And maybe that’s the reason we can’t be trusted with revenge, Holli. Those aren’t bad people, and normally, they wouldn’t act like that. But when we hurt, and our hurt turns into hate, then evils like Kaym can take advantage of us. And then you end up with something like this all over again. It’s a horrible vicious circle that never ends.”

  “I don’t hate anybody,” Holli said, her eyes filling up with tears. “I’d probably even forgive him if he asked me. But it still hurts, it hurts so bad.”

  “I know,” Christopher told her, squeezing her shoulder as Jami slipped an arm around her and hugged her tightly. “I know that.”

  It wasn’t long before a man made them all stand up, and then the judge walked into the courtroom. He was a big, black man with a squashed nose and a hard, inflexible expression. He didn’t seem fazed by all the activity outside the building, not in the least. He banged on his gavel so loudly that it made her jump, and informed everyone that he wasn’t going to put up with any nonsense, or as he actually put it, “behaviour inappropriate to the dignity of the proceedings.” Everyone in the courtroom quieted down pretty quickly after that.

  No one made a peep when he started reading off the list of charges against Derek in his deep, Darth Vader voice. But it was a long list, and it took him a while to get through it. She could feel Holli’s body getting tense when he mentioned Eric’s name, and she had to grind her teeth pretty hard to keep from crying herself. As the judge continued, there were muffled sobs scattered throughout the crowd, and one woman wailed when Gina Schmidt’s name was read. But Derek still just sat impassively in his seat next to his lawyer, showing no signs of reaction or remorse.

  “Derek Wallace, how do you plead?”

  The room was silent, but there was a brief murmur when Derek’s lawyer started to stand up and Derek glared angrily at the man. He made a slashing gesture with his hand and whispered something in a harsh tone of voice. The lawyer shook his head and Jami could see the man wanted to argue, but nevertheless, he stayed in his seat when Derek repeated the gesture again. Then the murmuring grew even louder as Derek rose slowly to his feet, clasped his hands before him, and stared directly at the judge.

  “I plead guilty to every charge, your honor,” he said clearly and distinctly. He looked sure of himself, as proud as any fallen angel, and his self-assured tone of voice made Jami shake her head and wonder if she’d heard him correctly.

  The tall boy paused for a moment as the courtroom immediately fell silent. He glanced down at the floor, then looked up and spoke again, more humbly now.

  “I know no one will believe me, but I really am extremely and genuinely sorry for shooting everyone. For killing them. I’m sorry for the people I shot, for those I killed, for their families and those who loved them. Most of all, I’m sorry for Brien… I don't expect an
yone to understand it or believe me, but he was truly a good person deep down inside. The thing is, we should never have done it… it was just stupid, it was a stupid and pointless waste of everything. Of life. I can see that now. I only wish I could have seen it before….”

  He paused briefly, then took a deep breath and went on:

  “But please don’t believe I’m saying this because I’m asking you to take it easy on me. Because I’m not. Just sentence me to whatever you think is right, to whatever you think I deserve, and that will be fine with me.”

  Jami held her breath, completely surprised by his confession. She realized that she’d totally misjudged his intentions. It wasn’t arrogance or pride that she’d heard in his voice before, but steely determination. But it was extraordinary that he’d decided to plead guilty. His parents were rich and his lawyer was an expensive defense attorney from New York City they had hired to defend him. Pleading guilty just didn’t make any sense.

  The big-shot defense lawyer raised his hand, but Derek warned him off with another glare.

  “I’m not crazy, your honor. I know exactly what I’m doing. I will accept the verdict. I have nothing more to say, except that, again, I am truly and deeply sorry.”

  He sat down, and Jami shot a questioning look at Christopher, who answered with a raised eyebrow. Holli’s eyes were closed, and tears were running down her cheeks, but her lips were moving silently in prayer. Jami shook her head, wondering if what she was starting to suspect could possibly be true. It was impossible, but then again, with God, anything was possible. Anything at all.

  Lord Jesus, I don’t know what you’ve done here, but if you can change a heart as full of hate and pride as his, then I really believe you can do anything. You are truly Lord!

  Somehow, in the noisy disturbance of the crowd’s reaction to Derek’s plea, she missed what the judge was saying, but it wasn’t long before he struck his gavel, and the session was over. Jami watched intently as Derek rose to his feet. His lawyer, with a furious look on his face, was trying to tell him something, but Derek only shook his head, and patted the man reassuringly on the shoulder. Then the policemen came for him and began to escort him out of the courtroom and back to prison, flanked on either side by muscular, stone-faced officers. But for the first time since Jami had seen him that terrible night at the prom, Derek himself looked relaxed, and at peace.