The Hammer of Amalynth

by Michael Galloway

  Did he even care for the doctor? He had heard enough from Rebekkah about doctors misdiagnosing her condition, mixing up medications, and how frustrating it was for her to keep explaining her symptoms over and over again to new people. From the sounds of it, Dr. Overland seemed similar with a dash of arrogance thrown in. So what if Dr. Amalynth took him out? He thought. If Dr. Amalynth had faith why didn’t God provide the man with answers about his wife’s condition?

  John took a deep breath. He could not believe the things he was thinking about now. He decided to focus again on his reading and turned ahead to the Book of Leviticus. Yet instead of moving smoothly through the text, he felt like he was a kid just learning how to run hurdles. Verse after verse seemed to trip him up and more than once he felt like he might as well have been getting hit in the shins with pieces of metal and wood for real.

  Somewhere in chapter three, he gave up and checked his dashboard clock. It was noon and the odds were good Dr. Overland would emerge from the hospital’s side entrance soon. He knew that his was his last chance to catch the doctor. Madeline only got a week’s worth of information from the office assistant as to the doctor’s whereabouts and his schedule. After the cafeteria confrontation John knew they would never have access to that type of information again.

  With wary eyes he looked around at the other cars. He kept thinking a security guard was about to rap on his window and ask him why he was sitting in the ramp. Instead, his cell phone rang. It was Madeline.

  “Hi. Where are you?” She asked in a sweet voice. “Did you make it to church this morning?”

  “Not really. I did check out your books though.”

  “And?”

  “And it’s going to take me a while with those.”

  “What are you doing now?”

  “Reading the Bible. But the harder I try, the worse I feel.”

  “What part are you reading?”

  “Leviticus.”

  Madeline snickered.

  “What’s so funny?” He asked.

  “Well, it’s doing what it’s supposed to do.”

  “What? Make me feel like a failure?”

  “That’s kind of the point. At least in that part of the Bible.”

  He sensed a tinge of belittlement in her voice and it nagged at him. “Or is there a chance you feel threatened by me reading this cover to cover?”

  “Me? Hardly.” She laughed it off before clearing her throat.

  John looked up from the book and panned around. The hospital entrance doors slid open. Dr. Overland strutted out and marched toward his car wearing a white polo shirt and matching shorts. In one hand was a briefcase and in the other was a black duffel bag with the black handle of a tennis racket sticking out.

  John put his key in the ignition and snapped his Bible shut.

  “What was that? Are you at home?” Madeline said.

  “Not quite. I’m in a parking ramp.”

  “Wait. You’re not at the hospital are you? You’re not…” her voice trailed off. “You’re stalking him, aren’t you?”

  “It’s not stalking. It’s a stakeout.”

  “John…”

  “If there’s smoke today there’s bound to be a fire. And I intend to track down the spark.”

  John watched as Dr. Overland got into his car and drove off. John started his truck and began to follow several blocks behind. “I’m on the move now.”

  “You really think something is going to happen to him today?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  John glanced at an approaching blue-gray shelf cloud in his rearview mirror. The ragged cloud was on the leading edge of a line of storms that extended from one end of the horizon to the other. An intermittent flicker lit up the underside of the cloud like a failing fluorescent bulb. Despite its imposing nature, it was not a day for chasing unless you were a hundred miles further south. Perhaps, if conditions were right and nothing happened with Dr. Overland, he could catch a brief spin-up on the southern end of the approaching squall line. He peered over at the radar on his laptop computer and as of yet, there were no warnings for their county.

  Dr. Overland drove east for several miles, which was fine with John, since it kept them out ahead of the storms. A stray bolt of lightning sliced the sky and hit the ground to his left, but it was not close enough to be considered a rocket strike.

  “Where are you now?” Madeline chimed in.

  “Heading east on 42 toward Iowa. Where are you?”

  “Heading north up 115. As soon as I hit 42 I’ll be a mile behind you.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t like it that I was stalking.”

  “Did you forget I was once a target, too?”

  A confident smile broke across his face. He looked into his rearview mirror and noticed the shelf cloud was about to overtake them. The leading edge hung lower now and writhed as if it was a set of claws ready to pounce on his vehicle. More bolts of lightning crashed into the earth around them, but none of them landed near the Dr. Overland’s car. “Careful,” John said to her. “Rain’s about to hit. We might lose him. In more ways than one.”

  Giant raindrops splattered on his windshield as he followed the doctor’s every turn. He tried his best to stay a cool half mile behind the black BMW. The rain made it more difficult to see but he knew from years of tracking tornadoes how to stay focused on a target despite changing environmental conditions. His gaze darted from the ground to the sky and back again as the flashes of lightning behind them surged in frequency.

  “Are you still on him?” Madeline said after a good minute of phone silence.

  Before John could reply he saw a shiny object bounce off the shoulder of the road just behind Dr. Overland’s car. Seconds later a white hot bolt of lightning zipped into the ditch and vaporized a patch of sunflowers in a puff of smoke. The doctor’s BMW swerved on the wet pavement and veered off into the weeds. The thunder made the windows of John’s truck buzz.

  “That sounded close,” Madeline said.

  “He just went off the road. I’m going in.”

  “John!”

  “Follow me.”

  He hung up the phone and stopped his truck when he reached the place where the BMW left the road. He jumped out and bolted through the tall grass until he arrived at the vehicle. The lights were still on and the driver side door was open.

  “Are you alright?” John said, shielding his eyes from the rain. Another bolt of lightning hit a quarter mile behind them. The wind also picked up and pushed the tall grass toward the ground.

  Dr. Overland leaned out to look and gave John a thumbs-up signal. Beads of sweat were on the man’s forehead and for the first time the doctor appeared intimidated. His granite features seemed to crack as if it was the first time somebody attempted to make good on their death threats against him.

  “If you want I can tow you out,” John offered.

  “No. That’s okay. I’ll call for a tow.”

  John did not know why the doctor refused his free offer but he figured he should leave well enough alone. He scanned the sky for signs of any other objects tumbling toward them. As he struggled against the wind and the sea of grass to return to the road, he saw Madeline’s car pull up behind his truck.

  When he made it back up to the road, he took a deep breath and walked up to her driver side window. He put his hands on his knees. “He’s alright,” he said as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

  Madeline stared off into the distance.

  “What is it?” John said.

  “It’s that truck again.”

  Up ahead on the highway, a tiny cloud of dust appeared behind a white pickup truck. John knew it matched the truck they saw at the abandoned church and so he raced back to his truck. He jumped in and sped off to chase down the white pickup. Madeline followed in her car and together all three of them drove a serpentine path down side roads that looped back into Sioux Falls. The rain soon mixed with hail and was driven by a relentless wind that cut visi
bility to less than a quarter mile. John did everything he could to follow the white pickup and despite turning on the four-wheel drive he fought with the steering wheel to avoid hydroplaning.

  A pair of orange flashes lit up the back of the white pickup and then arcs of smoke appeared. John dialed Madeline on his cell phone. “Incoming,” he said as he tried to trace the arcs of smoke.

  Seconds later a small canister bounced off the hood of his truck and rolled into the ditch. John glanced up through his windshield and watched a wispy piece of black string drift past him. The string reached back into the heavens and a moment later a bolt of lightning hammered the ground behind him.

  “Where’s the other one?” John asked. “Come on…”

  “It hit my roof a second ago,” Madeline said.

  “Change speeds. Change direction. Anything,” John shouted.

  Madeline slowed her car and took the next available left turn. A good minute passed before a bolt hit. Although it was well away from her car, it obliterated a roadside mailbox and sent up a plume of paper and plastic bits that drifted back down like confetti.

  “He’s turning again,” John said. Before he could pursue the white pickup further he was stopped by a traffic light.

  John slapped the wheel with the heel of his hand. His heartbeat throbbed in his ears and his legs tingled as if they could propel him at high speed if it came to a foot chase. “Lost him,” he said as his windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the flood of rainwater.

  “I’m right behind you,” Madeline said and waved to him. “If you can see me.”

  After the light turned green, John let out a growl of frustration.

  “Let me pass you,” a calm voice said over his phone.

  “Why?”

  “I think I know where he went.”

  Chapter Ten

  The rainwater backed up in the streets and caused John’s truck to launch sheets of water on either side as if it was parting a sea. He stayed close behind Madeline’s car as she turned corner after corner and went exactly where he thought she would go. There, in the back lot of the old abandoned church, sat the muddied white pickup of Dr. Amalynth. The driver was gone and the padlock and chain was missing from the door on the side of the church.

  Madeline and John both parked their vehicles but not before dodging another round of lightning bolts. John could not tell if the bolts were rocket-induced or of natural origin. He was determined to crawl along the ground if he had to at this point. When he reached the door, Madeline was only a step behind.

  John threw open the door but was startled by a bolt that struck a spruce tree just behind the parking lot. A shower of hot orange and white sparks erupted from the sides of the tree. Chunks of bark and bright white wood exploded onto the pavement. If not for the rain John was sure the tree would have gone up in flames. The subsequent shockwave of thunder forced them both to cover their ears.

  Inside they were met with four options—a stairwell that led up to the sanctuary, a hallway that ran to left and to the right, and a stairwell that led into the basement. All the passages were dark except for a dim light illuminating the basement stairs. John gave Madeline a worried look. He chose the stairs that led to the basement since he did not bring a flashlight.

  As he swept aside cobwebs, the scent of smoke irritated his nostrils and lungs. The stench reminded him of burnt plastic. Dust came off onto his hand as he gripped the wooden railing hard enough to make it creak.

  Step by step, he felt his chest tighten as if he waded into deep water. He expected an ambush at the bottom of the stairs but only found another hallway. The hallway turned to the left before opening up into another hallway with several closed doors on either side. The light they approached was nothing more than a mechanic’s drop light hung from a nail. It was powered by an orange extension cord that ran along the ceiling and into another room.

  By now the stench of smoke was overpowering. It also had an electrical character to it but it did not smell like the ozone odor one finds after a lightning strike. John’s fingers paced along the wall like spiders until he came to a room with an open door. The room was lit by another drop light hung from a nail, but this lamp swayed ever so slightly causing the shadows in the room to shift subtly back and forth.

  The room was a makeshift laboratory with papers askew on a desk, diagrams taped to the wall, a bench full of hand tools, a tipped-over swivel chair, but no doctor. In the middle of the room, a wire mesh cage that ran from the floor to the ceiling stood silent and immense. Inside the cage was a small, round, metal table covered in plastic figurines and miniature amusement park rides.

  The cage walls appeared woven and made of thin steel wire but the wire was not in a regular symmetric pattern. A pair of cables ran from the top of the cage along the ceiling. John reached out to touch the structure but Madeline swatted his hand away. Some of the figurines were melted and gave off the nauseating odor of charred plastic. Each corner of the cage had a strange-shaped coil that jutted out from the top. John circled the device and tried to study its functionality.

  Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the glint of moving metal.

  “Do you know what you’re looking at?” A male voice with a Cuban accent said from the corner.

  “Not really,” John replied.

  Madeline moved to John’s side and clutched his hand.

  A man in his forties with short jet-black hair and black glasses stepped out from the shadows. He wore a pale crème-colored suit with a crisp blue tie. He wielded a black metallic gun with a silver coil at the end of the barrel. The tip of the gun did not have an opening. “It’s a justice chamber,” he said with excitement in his voice.

  John began to survey the walls and the ceiling to make sure the entire room was not wired in a similar fashion. “So is that what this is all about? You’re serving justice?” His shoulder muscles tightened as he felt anger rising in him that he never knew existed. He clenched his fists until Madeline used a gentle hand to lower his arm.

  “We know about your wife,” Madeline said in a calm voice. She stepped forward but stopped as soon as Dr. Amalynth raised his gun and pointed it at her head.

  “Do you now? Who did you talk to? Mrs. Beckley? She thinks she knows everything.” Dr. Amalynth walked in a slow arc before them but kept his gun aimed at Madeline’s head. “They all claim to understand but underneath it all they’re clueless. And what about you? Do you know that look you get from a doctor when you tell them exactly what’s wrong with you because you know your own body better than they do? And they give you that annoyed-I’d-rather-be-on-a-golf-course look? Pop some pills and…you know…just go away?”

  Dr. Amalynth looked back at the cage and then at John. “You see, I learned some time ago we’re all just…numbers to them. A string of digits in a database somewhere.” He threw his hands into the air. “Whatever happened to interpersonal communications?”

  “We’re here to help,” Madeline said.

  John shot her an incredulous look.

  “You’re a little late aren’t you?” Dr. Amalynth said sarcastically. “Who are you anyway? And where were you two years ago? Where were you when my wife sat up in bed gasping for air? Where was God?”

  “He didn’t go anywhere,” Madeline said with a tremble in her voice.

  “Did you rehearse that line? No, no. I’ll tell you where He was. He was pacing around in heaven tangled up in his own logic. Meanwhile everything goes to hell down here. You know what the world needs? Someone to step up and take action.”

  Dr. Amalynth let a sly smile cross his face before becoming more animated. “Show me one person that’s repented. James and John once asked Jesus if He could call down fire on their enemies. Why didn’t He do it? But I have that ability now. Don’t you see?”

  “Really?” John said. “What did Rebekkah do to you?”

  “Rebekkah?”

  “You killed her on the bridge didn’t you? Hit at her car so she flew off the road.”

/>   “Is that why you’re here? Revenge? That was a favor for someone. She got in the way.” The doctor pointed to his own chest. “But I’m a free agent now.”

  “Got in the way?” John gestured toward Madeline. “Did Madeline get in the way? How about me? I took a hit off the electric box at St. Andrew’s because of you.”

  Dr. Amalynth remained unmoved. “How is Pastor Cordell these days? Still preaching on forgiveness?”

  John lunged forward until Dr. Amalynth shifted the gun’s focus to John’s chest. “Ah, ah.”

  John felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. His breathing intensified. “Who gave you the right to drop the Levitical hammer on people?”

  “Ooh. I like that.” Dr. Amalynth said. He backed up until he reached a doorway on the other side of the room. Just beyond him was another set of stairs.

  John felt a sense of betrayal about having been led downstairs. For all he knew the entire room was wired for death and a single shot from Dr. Amalynth’s gun might kick-start the process. If they were going to die here he was not going to go down without a fight. He mumbled to Madeline, “I can’t believe I’ve been this dumb.”

  “What did you say?” Dr. Amalynth said. His voice was more intense than ever. His facial muscles tightened. “I’m dumb now, am I?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. Do you know what it feels like to be stranded alone while everybody else goes about their life? It’s like you get thrown out of time and you’re left holding a broken stopwatch and no one, and I mean no one, can help you get that watch moving again.”

  Dr. Amalynth gave them one last smirk and then aimed his gun at the ceiling. The gun discharged a blast of electricity that exploded the light bulb hanging above them in a shower of orange sparks and glass. The room was plunged into sudden darkness and all John could hear was the sound of footsteps running up the stairwell.

  Chapter Eleven

  John waited until the room was silent before trying to find a new source of light. The storm continued above although the rain lessened and the thunder became less frequent. He withdrew his cell phone from his pocket and turned it into a makeshift flashlight.