David ached for the young man. He laid an awkward hand on his shoulder. It seemed meaningless. Still, it was something. It let the kid know David was on his side. Because he sure as hell wasn’t on the side of these fucking loony toons. “And what side are you on, Doc?”
They looked to Kathryn, the woman who watched the door, a rifle in her hand, staring out into the hallway. She seemed not to have heard a word.
“Oh shit, don’t be so melodramatic,” said Doc Ward. “I like you, pal, but we don’t have much choice in things. We’re safe for now. It’s self preservation.” The old man couldn’t meet David’s eyes. The doctor cast a sympathetic glance at Shaun. “Y’all are welcome to stay here tonight. I need to go see after our lady.”
“We’ll stay down the hall in my regular room tonight,” David said. “But thanks for the offer.”
“See to it she’s all right,” Shaun said in a voice heavy with pain.
David stared at the Doc, who withered under David’s gaze.
“I will.”
CHAPTER 24
The following morning, David woke Shaun and invited him to the cafeteria for breakfast rations. They walked in relative quiet, a few words about how each of them had slept served as greeting.
Shaun marveled at the size of the church. The rooms in which they slept were classrooms converted into dorm rooms. The entire east of side of the church complex was a full- size school connected to a temple and cathedral roughly the size of an indoor football stadium with two levels of balconies wrapped all the way around. Beyond the curve of the cathedral was a huge line of glass doors opening onto the multi-laned, circular drive outside.
High above them, the morning sunlight glowed through a stained glass mosaic of scenes from Genesis to Revelation. The vast marble entry curved past an information desk and led through a mall-like corridor. They walked past a bookstore with glass windows displaying decorations and the latest religious bestsellers. Next they passed a small coffee shop before descending a wide spread of stairs into a huge commons area. At the base of the stairs sprawled an indoor children’s play area called the Promised Land. A sign on an easel announced: The Promised Land is closed.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Shaun muttered.
The commons area was carpeted beige, tall dark wood pillars rising high to the ceiling. Wood tables and cushioned chairs made up an area that probably seated 300 people at least. There were couches in the far corners, a giant brick fire pit in the center, and a serving area called the Golden Streets Café that was more like an upscale restaurant than any cafeteria he’d been in. The Church of the Risen King was like no church Shaun had ever been in before. His own Christian school had been modestly sized, but nice. But man, nothing like this. This was truly a city unto itself.
Too bad they’re all a bunch of freaks, he thought. This might be a good place to lay low until we find out what’s going on. But then that wasn’t fair. They weren’t all freaks. David was cool, and so was one guy they’d talked to in the dorm last night before sleeping.
Shaun accepted David’s offer of a cup of coffee to accompany their modest portion of one egg, ham, and one biscuit.
“Cream?” David asked.
“And sugar.”
David mixed it for him from the barista counter and balanced it on his tray.
“Thanks.”
“You bet.”
They barely had a chance to find a place to sit in the echoing space of the dining area when the voice of Reverend Lawrence James Keller filled the room. Widescreen flat panel TV’s on the walls projected the man in all his suited glory, hair perfectly coiffed, arms stretched wide as he greeted his “congregation.”
“Good morning, sunshine,” David muttered into his coffee, eyes leveled at the screen on the wall nearest them.
Though it was hard to muster mirth after the past week, Shaun grinned. No question about one thing – he and David were on the same page when it came to Revered Keller – the man was as likeable as a re-gifted fruitcake.
“Dear brothers and sisters in the Lord,” announced the televised evangelist.
“What’s up with the TV?” Shaun asked David. “Where is he?”
“I think there’s a big sanctuary on the other side of the commons, some giant auditorium. Near a gym and youth center.”
“Jeez. How big is this place?”
“Bigger than Solomon’s temple, I’m guessing.” David took another drink of his coffee, winked at Shaun, and set his cup on the table. “Your tithes at work, young man.”
“Not mine, thankfully,” Shaun said.
They turned to watch the reverend’s announcement on the screen.
“These are trying times,” the reverend proclaimed. His voice echoed to the vast ceiling, echoed along the marble and glass halls. “These are the END times. There is no questioning that, friends. No question at all.” Keller took out a handkerchief and wiped his head before continuing.
“As the dead have risen, their souls have been claimed by the prince of this world — Lucifer, the fallen angel — who has reached the end of his reign! The scourge that has come upon us in recent days is the last assault of Satan mounted on the innocents of this world. He is in his last desperate attempt to destroy the souls of those who might be saved when Christ returns to us in that golden chariot from the heavens! And he will return to us, brothers and sisters!”
A low din of excitement rose from some tables in the commons. People in agreement. People saying amen, and halleluiah. About half of the people were buying everything the guy said, lock, stock, and crock. The other diners were unreadable, or perhaps just incredulous. Only a few looked downright skeptical. Of those skeptical few was an elderly couple seated two tables away from them.
“But as Christ is nearing the earth, to return us to his glory, Satan is working harder than ever to claim your souls! Though the word of God tells us that Christ will come like a thief in the night — it is also Satan who will sneak through your yard, creep to your window, pry away the screen, and enter your home. He is the thief who steals your life’s breath. The thief who steals your faith. He comes upon us like a wolf in the dark, ready to pounce and consume — ready to steal what is not his. He lies in wait, brothers and sisters. He waits for the time when you are spiritually low and vulnerable. When you’re doubting and tired of fighting the good fight. Oh, he waits, little children! The devil is the scavenger of souls.” Keller shook the Bible in the air above his head as he crossed the stage, back and forth. The cameras panned to keep up with him. Keller stepped down three carpeted stairs, wiped his forehead, and then continued.
“Satan is devouring the world. Consuming the evil and the ragged remains of humanity! And he’s devoured our loved ones — transformed them into the children of decay — transformed them into his children, the children of Hell; but Satan cannot devour us, because we have the power of Christ in our hearts, the power of the Holy Spirit at our disposal, an open line directly to God, who speaks to me and guides me and has given me a message today!”
More of the folks in the commons praised and agreed with the words, but several others had joined the skeptical few. Shaun was Christian, and he’d known good preachers in his life, and he’d known bad ones. This guy was the worst. Just watching him on the screen made Shaun feel darkness coil in his guts. The man was evil. And if there was anything the Holy Spirit was saying to him in this place while listening to this supposed word from God delivered through this false prophet, it was: Get Out.
David cleared his throat and drank some coffee. He lowered his head and said softly, “This windbag just goes on and on.”
Shaun nodded, eating and watching the screen. “This is a little scary.”
“A little?” David said.
“Last night I had a dream,” Keller went on extravagantly. “The Lord has spoken to me. Our church — this church — all of you are the chosen ones! And, yesterday, he sent us a blessed sign, in the form of the woman that sits here before me.” Keller gestured
toward the front row of pews. The camera panned to Dejah who looked pale, exhausted, and pissed. The look on her face clearly stated she was sitting there against her will. She glared at the camera. The camera quickly refocused on the figure of Keller, once again standing behind the pulpit.
“She embodies Christ’s hope. She is the vessel of his love, the living symbol of the power of the resurrection. This woman has been sent to be my bride, brothers and sisters. God has made it plain to me that I, as the humble leader of the Church of the Risen King, must marry this woman, Dejah Corliss. For just as the church is Christ’s bride, with which he’ll be unified upon his return, so must I be sealed in union with my bride. For he has sent her to walk among us as a symbol of his power and I must be joined in that power, that it may be shared with the church – that we all may be saved, that we all may survive these last days, that we all may be part of the great resurrection.”
As he continued to speak, Shaun leaned forward in his chair until he had inched to the edge of his seat. He turned, incredulous, to David. “Is he saying what I think he’s saying?”
“I don’t get much in all that bullshit except that he’s crazy and he intends to marry your friend.”
“That’s what I thought. That guy’s crazy. For starters, Dejah already has a husband!” Shaun’s chair wobbled as he stood.
“Hey.” David caught his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Shaun yanked his arm free of David’s grip. “I have to talk to Dejah.” He headed past the café, back toward the sanctuary, the place he assumed they were broadcasting from.
David stood, casting a glance back at their food left on the table. “Aw, screw it.”
He hurried after Shaun.
It wasn’t hard to find the sanctuary from which Reverend Keller was broadcasting his latest stream of madness. After Shaun jogged past the Golden Streets Café, the hallway branched to the right, leading through double glass doors into a youth game center, and through a corridor to the left, where a crowd was crushed into the doorway. He looked past their heads. He saw the reverend on a distant stage at the front of the sanctuary. Rows and rows of polished wood pews lined both sides of the sanctuary, and two center sections faced the front. Aisles separated the four sections of pews. The room was packed.
Shaun pushed through the crowd at the door. People complained. One person jabbed him hard in the ribs, trying to push him back into the crowd. Another person, a huge man with foul body odor, refused to let him pass. Shaun struggled with him, pushing and shoving, until David came from behind and grabbed the man under the back of his armpit. The man yelped with pain and, cursing, moved to the side.
Shaun made it through the crowd at the door.
He focused on Dejah.
She sat in a long white dress with three other women on a front row pew. The reverend was asking her to come onto the stage. Dejah shook her head no. Not to be deterred, Reverend Keller reached down to her. His hand stayed there, suspended in the air, beckoning toward her. Dejah sat unmoving in the pew, a look of ready defiance on her face.
Carson, rifle in hand, slipped from the shadows, and went to the end of the pew, leaning over her shoulder. He leaned and whispered something into her ear. Shaun could see that she said something in return, but she stood, turned, and looked over the congregation. She moved toward the stage, Carson a step behind.
As Dejah strode tall and lovely onto the stage, Reverend Keller took her hand in his and dropped to one knee before the congregation. As he announced that she would be his bride for the “grand salvation of all who were loyal to the Church of the Risen King,” the room erupted with ecstatic energy. People stood in their orderly rows of pews and applauded. People prayed. They lifted their hands to the ceiling and sang. Some cried in a twisted display of celebration, clearly believing that God had sent Dejah to save them from the plague that swept the land.
“Dejah!” Shaun yelled, forging ahead like a crazed fan at a concert, rushing the stage. He’d lost David somewhere behind him. “Dejah!”
Dejah was being led to the opposite side of the stage. The reverend caught site of Shaun and focused an intense glare of hatred on the teenager. The reverend grabbed Carson’s elbow, leaning close, shouting something in the soldier’s ear. The cries of thanks and celebration that arose from the congregation drowned out the words the angry minister chose to lash his right hand triggerman.
From across the room, Carson’s hawk-like gaze focused on Shaun. Carson’s lips curled into a sneer and he lifted his angular chin upward cockily, as if challenging Shaun to make a move. The implication of the unfolding events stirred a rage in Shaun that he didn’t know was in him until now. That son of bitch is keeping her prisoner against her will, Shaun thought. And that’s exactly why I plan to get over there before he sneaks out that side door. If I could just talk to her…let these people see what’s really going on….
Shaun tapped a deep well of strength within him to shove through the crowd. He brusquely pushed aside those in rapture, swaying with praise. He barreled into a wall of throbbing flesh created by those pressing toward the front of the stage for a close-up glimpse or touch of the preacher and his newly announced bride-to-be. Reverend Keller had Dejah’s arm tucked tightly under his own, her body pulled to his side by the arm he had thrust around her back as he came down the stairs. Three guards – one of them Carson – held the crowd back.
Shaun was stopped cold. He couldn’t make it any farther.
“Dejah!”
She turned as she was dragged along, masses of humanity pressing in around her, but she whirled at the sound of his voice.
“Shaun!” She said something else, but the noise washed out her words, and he could only see her lips moving.
Her eyes met his. The din of the crazies in the auditorium escalated as she was led through them.
Frantic, Shaun grabbed the nearest man’s shoulders, and pushed himself onto his back. From there he hovered two feet above the guards. They looked up at him with shock. A pistol rose above the heads of the crowd, aimed in his direction. The guard looked nervously at Shaun and scanned the crowd. He shouted at Shaun, but his words were lost in the wave of shouts and open gratitude to God for this new gift, this bride for Reverend Keller, salvation of the Church of the Risen King.
Shaun twisted, dug his feet into God-knows-what to push himself over the human barricade. He landed hard on the floor near the base of the stairs, ducking, and rolling past the guards. He leapt to his feet, darting past the base of the stairs. He pushed past Keller and grabbed for Dejah. She reached out to him. Her fingertips brushed the palm of his hand.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” he yelled.
Her face was drawn with panic and worry as Reverend Keller turned and realized that Shaun was there. His dark eyes flashed with a dangerous fury. His face contorted with ugly rage. Keller thrust Dejah through an open door leading backstage.
He turned, seething, and came at Shaun, one hand outstretched and curled into a claw, every move charged with anger. Keller lunged for him.
Shaun ducked left to dodge Keller’s oncoming attack. From behind, another hand gripped him, clamping onto his upper arm. Pain shot through his shoulder. His arm was wrenched violently backward.
“You need help fighting a sixteen-year-old, Keller?” Shaun shouted, spittle flying. His body shook from fear and trembled with rage.
Reverend Keller’s fingernails clutched Shaun’s neck. They dug deep into his flesh. He felt himself choking.
“You have been sent as an instrument of Satan!” Keller hissed.
Shaun gagged. His breath came in gasps. He felt the pain of his windpipe being crushed.
Then, a strange lucidity seemed to overcome the reverend. The change was so sudden it was surreal. It was if he’d been possessed, and then the spirit of evil left him. A puppet whose strings had been released. The man’s killing hand released the boy. Shaun fell backward into the gathering guards. Carson’s face came into view and it became
evident that the hand firmly grasping Shaun’s forearm belonged to him.
The Reverend blinked at Shaun. Then he looked up at the men who held him. “Tonight,” Keller said. “Ensure this warrior of Satan is punished.”
Keller turned, disappearing through the backstage door. Shaun caught a glimpse of Dejah peeking around the door, tears in her eyes. A hand shoved her hard into the hidden depths of the building and that was the last Shaun saw of her. He gasped, trying to catch his breath.
As the guards dragged him off, he spotted David, moshed by the crowd, face creased with worry as he watched Shaun, flanked on all sides by Keller’s gruesome ghoul squad, escorted from the room like a prisoner off to die.
CHAPTER 25
It was night. Dejah only knew that because when dinner arrived, the windows in the corridor beyond the door were dark. Otherwise, the room seemed timeless. After she ate a tasteless meal delivered from the café, a homely woman with little to say made off with their dishes. When the woman had gone, she felt plunged again into an aimlessly drifting sea.
Her body seemed healed. She was free of physical, if not emotional, pain. Anxiety at not being able to call Selah was like a cold spike pressing against the inside of her chest, a palpable pressure. Every time she swallowed, her throat ached with the threat of tears. But she had to be stronger. Now she had Shaun’s life to worry about, too.
The memory of him being choked by Reverend Keller and then carried away by the militants was too much to bear. She pushed it from her mind.
What filled her thoughts were memories of Selah, of life together in the times before all of this happened. She couldn’t focus on the bizarre situation with Keller right now. Worry for Selah consumed her, overshadowed and rushed in through every spare thought. Everything else mattered little. It occurred to her that the lunatic reverend could touch her, rape her, and have her tortured. But none of that mattered if it bought her more time, more leeway to design a plan for escape. The only thing that mattered was Selah. Staying alive. Getting Shaun, and then getting back to Selah.
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