The Hammer of Amalynth

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The Hammer of Amalynth Page 11

by Michael Galloway


  “But how will they know where to go?” Madeline asked.

  “I pre-programmed them with a few images for targets.” He reached over and selected a handful of images of the white pickup truck from different angles and sent the command to the airborne wireflies. “Here’s hoping.”

  He rolled up his window and passed the laptop over to Madeline. “There should be a tracking map that pops up pretty quick.” He glanced in the mirror again and the truck was gone.

  “He’s heading west,” she said.

  John wheeled his truck out of the parking lot and onto the service road that ran alongside the carnival grounds. The video coming back from the wireflies was fuzzy at best since they had poor night vision capabilities.

  Another bolt of lightning thumped into the Ferris wheel and sent white hot sparks showering down. The top car snapped free and bounced like a steel ball in a Japanese pachinko machine until it smashed into the ground.

  “How far is it to his lab?” John asked.

  “About two miles.” Madeline looked over at John and then turned the laptop so he could see the path traced by the wireflies overlaid onto a map of the local city streets. Rain drummed on the truck harder now as brilliant flashes of lightning etched cracks across the sky.

  John hoped they could catch up to Dr. Amalynth before the wireflies gave out and the heavy rain turned the streets into canals. Although his truck could handle many types of terrain, he doubted it could double as a boat. Up ahead he caught sight of an orange flash in the bed of the white pickup truck. “Here we go.”

  Moments later John watched helplessly as a projectile bounced off the asphalt in front of them. He swerved to avoid getting tangled in the black fiber and stepped on the accelerator. A blinding flash lit up the cab of the truck and the thunderous crash that followed rattled the loose change in his center console.

  “That one made my hair stand up,” Madeline said as she tightened her seat belt and squeezed the armrest tight enough to tear it off the door.

  John looked over to see the top of Madeline’s hair rising up to the ceiling of the truck. He felt the hair on his arms bristle. As the minutes wore on, he counted four rocket launches, and all landed wildly off target. He suspected the wind and the heavy rain wreaked havoc with the rocket trajectories.

  “Half mile to the church,” Madeline said.

  John closed to within a few hundred feet of the pickup truck. He wanted to stomp on the accelerator to close the gap, but the risk of hydroplaning became too real now. The windshield wipers squeaked and slashed at the rain at the highest speed but barely kept up. One of the indicators for the wireflies disappeared off the laptop screen and soon the second one followed.

  “Now what?” John said.

  “He’s going back to the lab,” Madeline shouted above the rain.

  The white pickup pulled into the parking lot of the abandoned church and parked. Dr. Amalynth ran out a second later and ducked into the building. Another bolt of lightning hit nearby and flooded the parking lot with split-second daylight. John stopped his truck and pulled out his flashlight from the center console.

  Both Madeline and John emerged from the truck in a full sprint. The puddles and weeds turned the parking lot into a maze of miniature swamps and much time was lost trying to navigate them. As soon as they made it to the front doors, John braced himself for what he might find inside.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  At first, the interior of the church was pitch black and only navigable during flashes of lightning. Once John clicked on his flashlight he could see every step they made stirred up the dust and echoes of services past. He flipped a light switch on the wall but it did nothing. His first instinct was to charge downstairs but the sound of metal chains being dragged on concrete drew him toward the sanctuary. He clasped Madeline’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze as he crept toward the entrance.

  John swept his flashlight to and fro. The windows were boarded shut and the paint peeled in multiple places along the walls. As he passed the cracked and dust-covered pews he saw a shadowy figure sitting in the front row. It was then he counted three propane canisters along the wall with wires attached to them. He traced one set of wires along the floor and found that it led to the front of the sanctuary. Draped across the front wall of the church was a white bed sheet with the words “Welcome Home” written in red paint.

  John aimed the flashlight against another wall and found three more propane canisters wired together like an improvised bomb. Another set of wires ran from there up to the front. A male voice sang out in the darkness: “The itsy bitsy spider crawled up the waterspout. Down came the rain…” The voice stopped at the sound of John’s foot accidentally kicking a rusted metal bracket across the floor. The bracket skittered along the floor and clinked against one of the pews.

  John and Madeline walked slowly up to the front and shone a light on the front pew. There, Dr. Amalynth sat in a crème-colored suit with a bright orange tie. In one hand he held a gun that had an electrical coil on the end of the barrel.

  “Oh, hello,” Dr. Amalynth said as he stared at them. There was a vacant look in his eyes and he cocked his head to one side. “I didn’t realize I’d have company tonight.”

  Before John could speak, his thoughts were sideswiped by visions of the people fleeing the carnival. Who knew how many people were injured or dead or if the midway was engulfed in flames now. His hands trembled with anger to the point he dropped the flashlight. When he reached down to pick it up he caught sight of a pair of shackles with chains on the pew next to Dr. Amalynth.

  Dr. Amalynth turned to look at the shackles and picked them up. With his other hand he trained the gun on John’s chest.

  John shone the flashlight onto Dr. Amalynth’s face. The sweat built up in his palms and he nearly dropped the flashlight again. “Is this how you’re going to take us out?”

  “Flashlight versus gun? That wouldn’t be a fair fight now would it? Here.” Dr. Amalynth set the shackles down and picked up a second gun with a coil-shaped barrel. He extended it out to John but John refused.

  John backed up a step. He felt an intense urge to pick up the weapon anyway and end the situation now. It was one thing to forgive Jared, but Dr. Amalynth was another matter entirely. Or was it?

  “C’mon. Where’s the fight?” Dr. Amalynth glanced over at Madeline but she grabbed a hold of John’s hand instead.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Madeline said.

  “If I don’t, who will? So tell me. Where is God? We’re in a church by the way. The banner’s up. The stage is set. So when’s the Big Guy going to walk in?” Dr. Amalynth looked around as if he heard footsteps from the back of the sanctuary. He cupped his hand around one of his ears to listen. Rain continued to pound on the roof of the church and an occasional rumble of thunder caused the boarded-up windows to buzz and vibrate.

  “He didn’t go anywhere,” Madeline said as she tried to defuse the situation.

  John clenched the flashlight tighter. His breathing became shallow. A surge of energy flowed through his arms and traveled back down to his hands but it was unlike the energy he felt in the truck when the lightning bolts were hitting the ground around them. He lunged not for the gun at Dr. Amalynth’s side but instead for a Bible in the rack between them. John stepped back and flipped it open to chapter eighteen of the Book of Matthew.

  He stared at Dr. Amalynth with such intensity that is his eyes would have been focused on the propane canisters, they would have ignited. “I just read something the other night. There was a man forgiven his debts but he refused to forgive anyone else. Know what happened to him? He ended up being tormented for it. Don’t you see? All this…”

  John shone his flashlight on the propane canisters and then up toward the ceiling. The canisters were all different sizes and one had a rusted valve. “All this is nothing more than a prison of your own creation. The other night I broke down and forgave Jared Wyckham for what he did. I don’t know if I feel like forgivi
ng you, though.”

  “That’s more like it. Now you’re seeing it my way.”

  John stopped himself. It felt too easy to give in to the hate. He envisioned knocking the gun out of Dr. Amalynth’s hand and locking his legs up in shackles. Then he would let the man sit there in the darkness alone until the cops came. Better yet…

  Out of nowhere, deep inside, John felt a nudging that would not go away. “Know what? I am like you in some ways. But even if it kills me, I’m going to forgive you.”

  Dr. Amalynth looked up to the ceiling. “Thank you father, for I have sinned. Oh, how I’ve sinned.” He lowered his gaze back at John. “But we’re still different. So very different.”

  “No we’re not.”

  “No, no, no!” Dr. Amalynth shook with rage. He threw the second gun to the side and pointed the first one at Madeline.

  “No, you listen,” John snapped. He pulled Madeline behind his body to shield her. “We are alike. But I thought and you acted. After Rebekkah died I could have gone around to everyone she came in contact with and demanded answers. But I would have been wrong. I should have gone looking for you.”

  “So you are here to kill me. Is that it? I’m the one holding the gun.”

  “No. I’m going to forgive you. Besides you aren’t as in control as you think.”

  “What did you say to me?” Dr. Amalynth cocked his head to the side again. His features darkened as if a multitude of shadows converged in one place.

  John held his flashlight steady. “You’re not in charge of the lightning. God is.” He set the Bible to the side and stepped back.

  Madeline leaned out from behind John. “And maybe He’s got a plan for you. You just can’t see it.”

  John’s eyes widened. He shot her an incredulous look. He knew he was being bold but this sounded ridiculous coming from her.

  Dr. Amalynth’s head snapped back in laughter. “Oh, she’s good. You ought to keep her,” he said to John. He slumped forward and put an elbow on one knee. “You know, you’re right. God didn’t go anywhere. I didn’t see it for what it is. God’s been working through me all along.”

  Dr. Amalynth picked up the shackles and set down the coiled gun. “Perhaps it’s time for you two to leave me.” He clasped his hands together and then put one end of the shackles around his left ankle. He clamped the right side of the shackles onto a metal pole to his left. The pole ran from the floor all the way to the ceiling.

  “Please,” Dr. Amalynth said. “My counselors and I need some alone time before the Big Guy shows up.”

  Madeline put her hands on her hips. “Your counselors?”

  Dr. Amalynth gestured toward the two arrays of propane canisters on either side of the sanctuary. “My friends if you will.”

  “What are you doing with all this?” Madeline asked. “Do you think your wife would really want you to go out like this?”

  “Oh, don’t bring her into this. Maybe God has used me. Maybe He didn’t. But judgment is coming for me now. I suggest you leave. And soon.”

  “We’re not going to leave you here,” Madeline said.

  John disagreed with her but said nothing. The rainfall intensified on the roof of the sanctuary. Flashes of lightning peeked out through the air gaps between the stained glass windows and the plywood covering them. The interval between flashes shortened and John reasoned a storm core was about to pass overhead. Thunder and wind made the plywood creak as if something was trying to pry the nails free with invisible claws.

  “It won’t be long now,” Dr. Amalynth said. His eyes were downcast and his voice became tinged with remorse as if he had second thoughts.

  “You don’t have to do this. There are people that care,” Madeline said.

  Dr. Amalynth jerked the shackles so that they clanged against the metal pole. He ran his free hand through his slicked-back hair. “Like you? Look. Go downstairs.” He motioned toward the rear of the church with his head. “The first metal door at the bottom of the stairs. Go through it. You’ll find a switch.”

  “For what?” John said.

  “If you flip it down, it’ll cut the connection between all of this and the array on the roof.”

  John stared up at the ceiling in confusion.

  Dr. Amalynth’s nostrils flared and he raised his voice in anger again. “Just. Listen. To. Me. I can’t stop the lightning that’s coming.”

  Multiple tapping sounds echoed on the shingles above. “It’s hailing,” John said to Madeline.

  “Oh, those aren’t hailstones,” Dr. Amalynth said. “They’re conductors.”

  John gave Madeline a startled look.

  “Hurry. There’s isn’t much time,” Dr. Amalynth said as if he was a school teacher hustling kids out the door.

  John and Madeline jetted out of the sanctuary and raced up to the edge of the stairwell. Madeline skipped down the stairs but John stopped at the top.

  “What’s wrong?” She asked frantically.

  “Every time I end up in a church basement something bad happens.” He took a deep breath and stormed down the stairs to meet her. At the bottom, John twisted the doorknob and led Madeline through the metal door. They found themselves inside a tiny maintenance room. The air was filled with the odor of dust, ammonia, and cleaning chemicals. Madeline coughed hard and covered her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt.

  “Where’s the switch?” Madeline said as she ran her other hand along the wall.

  John swept the flashlight high and low. He only found brooms, a dustpan, a sour smelling sponge mop in a gray plastic bucket, and a shelf full of leaking cleaning chemicals. “What’s through the next door?” He said as he motioned to another steel door on the opposite wall.

  Madeline swung the door open and they both charged through only to find themselves standing next to a dumpster in the rain. Behind them the steel door slammed shut with a bang. There was no doorknob on this side of the door.

  John and Madeline scrambled around to the front of the church but John froze in place when he looked up. There, dozens of metallic balls rolled off the roof, each dragging a thin black streamer behind it.

  “We can’t just leave him in there,” Madeline shouted above the roar of the rain.

  A metallic ball dropped in between John and the church door and the attached streamer drifted toward him. “Run!”

  They darted across the lawn and into the woods. Seconds later a lightning bolt crunched into the roof and exploded the shingles like a firework that went off course. Another bolt hit almost the exact same spot and set off a series of explosions inside. They instinctively ducked and covered their heads as bricks and stained glass were blown out in all directions by tongues of blue and crimson flame. Orange flames erupted on the roof as another bolt sliced into a nearby birch tree causing its trunk to superheat and combust in an instant. In between being blinded by the flashes, the thunder nearly made John deaf.

  When the explosions ceased and the storm’s core moved on, they crept back toward the front of the building. The front doors had been blown off their hinges and lie splintered on the sidewalk. John leapt over a piece of burning lumber and charged inside. “Wait here,” he shouted to Madeline.

  “No, I’m coming with you.”

  Despite the intense heat and choking smoke, together they made their way into the sanctuary. All of the windows had been blown out and there were several glowing holes in the roof. Many of the pews had been obliterated to splinters.

  Despite the rain pouring inside and the sound of the flames, John heard a stirring coming from the front of the church. Fearing the worst, he ran toward the front pew only to find it toppled over backwards. Dr. Amalynth was lying on top of it, coughing and mumbling. The man’s glasses crunched underfoot.

  “Here, give me a hand,” John shouted to Madeline. Together they dragged Dr. Amalynth out of the pew and tried to lift him to his feet.

  A metal shackle and a four-inch piece of chain remained around the doctor’s ankle but the shackle attached to the metal
pole was sprung open. He spoke to them in a raspy voice. “I never was very good with a soldering gun.”

  Up above, a cracking sound came from one of the rafters. Embers drifted back toward them like writing orange snakes. John motioned for them to leave. Madeline led the way and all three of them navigated piles of debris until they reached the parking lot. Behind them rafters collapsed and bricks tumbled into the aisles.

  As the rain continued to fall, Dr. Amalynth sat down on the curb in a disorientated heap. His suit coat was charred and shredded and his face was covered in soot. Madeline pulled out her cell phone and dialed the police.

  The rafters in the church continued to creak as the flames steadily grew and consumed more of the interior. By the time a police car and the fire department arrived, the top of the steeple gave way and crashed into the pew where Dr. Amalynth once sat.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A week later John and Madeline attended the Sunday morning service at St. Andrew’s Church. This time he made sure to put on a pot of coffee the night before and got up an hour early to pick Madeline up from her apartment. Upon entering the sanctuary, one of the first things John checked was whether the roof had been repaired. Sunlight and not lightning strikes illuminated the stained glass windows today and for that he was thankful.

  The service was fuller this morning and he noticed the trio of churchgoers who sat behind him on the day he was knocked out by the lightning strike sat in the far back pew and gossiped amongst themselves. John led Madeline to the middle of the sanctuary and for a moment admired the fact that this congregation, no matter what the weekly attendance, at least had their own little building to call home. He squeezed Madeline’s hand and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

  After the weekly readings, Pastor Cordell charged into his sermon. He held the sides of the podium like a steady captain at the wheel. “I didn’t know where to begin today,” he said after he cleared his throat. “So I’ll pick up where I was about to start a few weeks ago when we were…interrupted by lightning.”

 

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