by Alex Siegel
"But you'll be there?"
Virgil nodded. "We'll shadow you the entire time, day or night."
The pastor stared at the water. "I suppose I can do that. Risking my life to catch a serial killer isn't one of my normal duties, but we are all called to the Lord's service in different ways. I can't imagine a nobler task. Luke 17:33: 'Whoever seeks to keep his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life will preserve it.' Now that I think about it, I have no choice. I'll do it for Josh."
"I'm glad you feel that way. Now we get to the really difficult part. Daniel believes Josh has a pristine soul and went straight to Heaven upon death."
"I'm sure that's true. Josh was an amazing boy."
"You have to proclaim the opposite," Virgil said. "Tell the world Josh was full of sin. His soul is eternally damned."
The pastor stared. "I can't do that."
"It will force Daniel to respond. The nastier the accusations, the angrier he'll get. He'll do anything to make you shut up. He killed Josh because of his goodness, and any challenge to that premise is intolerable."
"I can't destroy the reputation of a fine young man who isn't even alive to defend himself! What would his parents think of me? The members of my church? They would never forgive me."
Virgil grimaced.
"Pastor Don Cliff," a new voice said.
Virgil recognized Barachiel's voice. He looked around and discovered an image of the angel on the surface of the stream. The turbulent water scrambled Barachiel's face, but it was still identifiable.
Virgil pointed. "Look."
The pastor leaned over the railing. "Who are you?" he whispered.
"I am Barachiel the Archangel, chief of the guardian angels. You are being asked to carry a heavy burden, but it is warranted. The souls of Daniel's past victims cry for justice. The souls of his future victims cry for protection. Even more is at stake than the lives of innocent children. Work with these people and follow their orders. They are... special. Good bye."
The flowing stream washed away the manifestation.
The pastor stared at the water for a moment. Then he turned to Virgil and said, "Did you see that?"
"Yes," Virgil said. "We all did."
"I'm not going crazy?"
"Not at all. You have your marching orders straight from Heaven. Do you still have doubts?"
"I just saw an angel!" the pastor yelled.
Alfred put a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down."
"Is Daniel the anti-Christ?"
"No, but that doesn't mean he isn't very dangerous. Let's go to your church and make plans. This won't be a simple operation."
The pastor looked at the group around him. "What did Barachiel mean when he called you 'special'?"
"It means we can do the job," Lisa said angrily, "and we're wasting time. Daniel could be killing another kid right now. We have to go."
"You're not an angel," he whispered.
"I am absolutely, one hundred percent, not an angel. Move!"
He blanched and started walking.
* * *
The Divine Grace Presbyterian Church was made of red brick and white stone. A big bronze crucifix was mounted on the front, but it needed to be polished. The church was located on a street corner near railroad tracks and a park. The neighboring buildings were private homes.
The pastor led Virgil, Alfred, Sara, Lisa, and Detective Haymaker through the front doorway. They walked into a big, white room with enough pews for a few hundred people. The pulpit was at the far end under a crucifix hung from the ceiling. Sunlight entering through high windows provided most of the light. The windows had religious symbols and scenes etched into the clear glass.
Virgil wondered if Daniel would be destroyed in this place. It was fitting for the final battle to happen in a church.
"My office is in back," the pastor said.
He took the group through a door in the back of the church. They entered a plain, humble office with yellow walls. A padded leather chair was behind a clean, highly polished wooden desk. Certificates were framed and hung on the walls.
The pastor sat in his chair. "How is this going to work?"
The office had only two other chairs which Virgil and Haymaker took. Lisa, Sara, and Alfred remained standing.
"Let's start with security," Virgil said. "Four of us will guard you at all times. Detective Haymaker is the odd man out. He'll come and go as he sees fit."
"Don't you need to work in shifts so you can sleep?" the pastor said.
Virgil shook his head. "Don't worry about that. We'll take positions in and around the church, but at least one of us will always be in the room with you. Do you live here?"
"I live alone in a small house next door."
"Daniel needs to be able to find you. Stay in this church or your house from now on. Don't leave."
The pastor furrowed his brow. "Are you going to arrest Daniel here? I don't like the idea of violence on church property."
"No better place for the Lord's work," Virgil said.
"Wait. Is Daniel cursed or something? Can he even enter a church?"
"Are you thinking of vampires?"
"No," the pastor said, "but vampires have a problem with crosses."
Virgil sighed with impatience. "Let me worry about Daniel. I want you to focus on the message you'll deliver about Josh. Start thinking of sins."
"It will be tough to imagine Josh in that light. He was such a great kid. But there were a few transgressions...."
"Oh?" Alfred said. "What?"
"Josh confessed to me a few times, but I will never expose those secrets under any circumstances. I would die first."
"Then make up different sins. They can be small. Theft, drugs, masturbation. Things a normal teenager might do. You have to include deviant sexuality though."
"What do you mean?" the pastor said. "Why?"
"It will resonate strongly with Daniel. Unbearable shame is one of the causes of his pathology. Say Josh wanted to sleep with his mother."
"What? No! I can't say that."
"Daniel will take it as a slap in the face," Alfred said. "He will be furious."
"I don't care if it's a cattle prod in the gonads! Some things are unspeakable."
"It's for the children. It's for Barachiel. Maybe I should write the statement for you. You'll just sign it and give it to the reporters."
The pastor looked ill. "Write the statement. I'll sign it, but I'm not sure if I'll read it."
* * *
Daniel looked through the window of a restaurant. The people inside were eating fine food and drinking wine. He tried to remember what food tasted like. He hadn't eaten anything in Hell. His new body lacked taste buds and a digestive system, so anything he swallowed fell into his lungs. The lungs simply allowed him to talk. He could only recall eating was a pleasurable experience, and he wished he could do it again.
He continued walking down the street. He was checking out an unfamiliar part of town as part of his campaign to find more souls to release. Knowing an area was helpful when selecting a candidate. Pictures and maps on the internet weren't enough. Walking through a neighborhood was the only good way to make a complete assessment. The nicer the homes, the nicer the kids, the better the souls.
He was close to deciding this area wasn't right for him. Too many lawns needed to be mowed. The houses were packed too tightly together. A man standing on a street corner was probably selling drugs. Daniel also didn't like the protective iron fences in front of many houses. They spoke of fear.
He sighed and turned around. No good.
It was a long walk back to his car, but he wasn't in a great hurry. The day had been very productive, and he had earned the right to take it easy. He was enjoying the warm sun on his face.
Daniel decided to check the latest news reports on Josh Howe's death. Reading news about his own work was an addictive habit. He loved the wild, ignorant speculation. The authorities had finally, publically admitted a serial killer was responsible even though it had been obv
ious for a while. The press had nicknamed him the "Suburban Stabber." He found the name disappointingly dull.
He took out his phone and did an internet search. The first story that popped up was about a Presbyterian pastor who had strong, controversial opinions about Josh. Daniel read with amusement at first. Whenever a notable murder occurred, everybody had an opinion.
As Daniel continued reading, his amusement turned to irritation. The pastor had said some shockingly inappropriate things. Daniel clicked on a link which took him to the full, original statement.
Irritation became anger. The pastor listed Josh's sins in shocking detail. Some were understandable for a young man like masturbation, but they got worse as the list went on. Josh was accused of punching his girlfriend and cheating at school. Daniel could hardly believe his eyes. Speaking ill of the dead was bad enough, but Josh Howe had been the perfect boy, deserving of immediate admission into the upper reaches of Heaven.
Daniel's hands were shaking by the time he got to the last item on the list, and it was the worst of all. Sleeping with his mother.
He couldn't remember the last time he had felt such rage. He swore the pastor would recant his preposterous accusations or die. Preferably the later.
Daniel picked up his pace.
* * *
"All clear," Virgil whispered into his radio headset.
He was standing in a dark closet in Pastor Don Cliff's bedroom. It wasn't an interesting place to be, but Virgil had endured worse. The closet door was cracked open just enough for him to peek out. The pastor was lying in bed reading a book.
Virgil had Furies' Bane in his hands. The sculpted weapon felt heavy and solid. He still didn't know how to fire it, and he was afraid to fiddle with it. He couldn't afford to waste the single shot.
He thought about the "instructions" written in gold on the barrel. The pictures showed a man and a lion in symmetric poses, and the lion was roaring. The image of a lion appeared often in religious stories. Would the gun make a killer roar when fired?
"All clear," Lisa whispered through Virgil's radio headset.
She was in a tree in front of the house. She had a strong preference for high places, and he wondered if it was because she had been denied entrance into Heaven.
"All clear," Sara whispered.
She was lying in a flower garden in the back yard. A layer of dirt made her look like a pile of mulch.
Alfred was the last to report. "All clear."
He was hiding in the attic with the surveillance equipment. Hastily installed microphones and a couple of video cameras allowed him to monitor the entire house. Daniel would have to be exceptionally skilled to enter undetected.
Virgil continued to listen and watch. Daniel would come. It was just a matter of time.
* * *
Daniel's car was making an unhealthy rattle. He had purchased it for cash from a guy who had assured Daniel the vehicle was in "perfect running condition." It had run well at first, but after a day of driving around, odd engine noises were becoming more pronounced. It was a great annoyance. He didn't have time for car repairs.
He parked on the side of a quiet street in a suburban neighborhood. He was only a few blocks from where he had released Josh's soul that morning. He turned off the ignition, and the engine sputtered a few times before finally dying.
Daniel stepped out into a warm night. The sky was full of stars, and he took a moment to admire the spectacle. A demon had once told him the Celestial Contract only applied to Earth. Heaven and Hell were strictly for human souls. It was very possible alien planets had different forms of intelligent life obeying different metaphysical rules, not that it mattered to him.
He refocused on the task at hand. According to the internet, the pastor's church was on the next block, and his home address was next door. Daniel would investigate both locations.
He opened the trunk of his car. Suitcases containing all his possessions were in the trunk. He unzipped one suitcase and rummaged through the contents until he found his revolver. He much preferred to kill with a knife, but it never hurt to have a more powerful weapon in case he ran into unexpected trouble. He made sure the gun was loaded, and then he shoved it into the waistband of his pants.
Daniel began to jog towards the church. When he saw the distinct silhouette in the distance, he stopped to consider his strategy. His enemies were clever and determined. Perhaps the pastor's outrageous accusations were part of an elaborate ruse. For the first time, Daniel suspected a trap.
He decided approaching from the rear was perhaps safer. He turned around and headed in a different direction.
* * *
Sara hated bugs, and the garden was full of them. A light evening rain had brought swarms of insects to the surface. They were crawling across her face and even getting into her nostrils. She was trying to hold still, but the creepy sensations really bothered her.
She remembered some of the bodies she had autopsied as a medical examiner. Several cases had involved murder victims left to rot in the wilderness. Few things were more revolting than cutting open a corpse and finding it packed with squirming larva. Those horrifying memories came back to her now.
Sara heard a sniffling noise. She turned her head and saw an opossum which had probably come to feed on the insects. The animal reminded her of a giant rat even though there was no biological relationship. It had a white face, a dark gray body, and a mouth full of pointed teeth.
Go away, she thought. Opossums weren't dangerous, but they could bite.
The animal wandered over and sniffed at a worm. She raised her arm and tried to shoo it away. The startled opossum fell over onto its side. It curled its lips back and played dead.
Lovely, Sara thought.
* * *
Daniel narrowed his eyes. He had just seen suspicious movement in a flower bed. A brown lump had looked like an innocent pile of dirt at first, but now he realized it was a person.
My enemies are here, he thought.
Daniel couldn't run away until he dealt with the pastor. Such slanderous statements about Josh had to be punished regardless of their motive. Getting to the pastor presented a significant challenge though. If Daniel showed his face, he would be ambushed. He felt confident he could fight off one or two of his adversaries, but all four at once was too much.
The church was next to a small house, and the garden was behind the house. All the windows of the church were dark, but lights were on in the house. Daniel assumed the pastor was home.
Daniel worked his way around, moving slowly and silently. His belly almost touched the soft ground as he crawled like a lizard. He stared into the shadows.
He spotted a dark shape high in a tree. It was perched on a branch and almost hidden by leaves, but it was definitely a human.
And probably more inside the house, Daniel thought.
He pondered what to do. Simply going into the house and searching for the pastor was foolhardy. Daniel needed to create some chaos first.
He looked around for something he could use. The next house down the block had a garage, and he decided to try there. Garages tended to contain interesting and dangerous things.
Daniel crept across the yard. He circled around and found a window on the side facing away from the enemy. He pushed up. The window had a lock, but brute strength allowed him to break the lock.
He slipped into the house. It was dark, but his excellent eyes could see well enough.
The lights abruptly came on. An old man was standing in a doorway with a baseball bat clutched in his hands.
"Stop where you are!" he said in a shaky voice.
Daniel rushed forward and punched the old man in the face, knocking him out.
Daniel proceeded through the house and eventually found the garage. He couldn't risk turning on the light, but he remembered his phone had a flashlight function. He used his phone to illuminate the shelves in the garage.
A gas can caught his eye. He picked it up and heard gasoline slosh inside. A plan form
ed in his mind.
He went back into the main part of the house to find what he needed. He first located some glass bottles of beer. He just needed one bottle, and he poured the beer down the sink. Then he cut a strip of soft cloth from a towel. Finally, he found a cigarette lighter.
He took his materials out to the garage. He filled the bottle with gasoline and stuffed in the cloth wick to create a Molotov cocktail. Perfect, he thought.
Chapter Twenty-two
Virgil heard the crash and tinkle of breaking glass.
"What was that?" he said into his radio headset.
"On the east side," Lisa said. "I saw fire. I'll investigate."
"Fire? Oh, no."
Virgil ran out of the closet. Pastor Cliff was already out of bed and looking around fearfully.
"Stay behind me," Virgil ordered.
He didn't have to go far to find the trouble. The front room of the house was already an inferno, and the fire would spread quickly through the old wooden structure. Molotov cocktail, he thought.
Virgil immediately grasped the purpose of the attack.
"It's Daniel!" he said into his radio. "He must've sniffed out the trap. He's out there, and he wants the pastor to step outside where he'll be exposed."
"How did Daniel know?" Sara said.
"Doesn't matter now. We have to find him fast!"
The pastor was shaking with fear. "What do I do?" he gibbered.
Virgil looked at him. "Stay in the house as long as you can."
"But the fire...."
"I know, but if you stick your nose outside, it's liable to get shot off. When you do come out, run like hell and don't stop. Got it?"
The pastor nodded.
Virgil looked around for the nearest exit. A bathroom window was the best he could do. He ran, dived through the glass, and rolled to his feet on the grass outside. He looked around with Furies' Bane in his hands. The light from the fire was creating flickering, confusing shadows.
"Does anybody see him?" Virgil said.
"No," Lisa replied through the radio. "I'm searching for him now."
"He has to be around here somewhere. Check the church. Check the surrounding houses. Move!"
* * *