by Brad Kelln
"Carter?" Wenton spat.
Nick nodded. "Gary's church did these charity runs to the Nova Scotia Hospital. The volunteers went through the units and handed out magazines, talked to the patients, and shit like that. Well, one day Gary came across this sad case, Edward Carter, and took an interest. As soon as he heard the man's history Gary was convinced that Edward Carter was the Convergence, the portal for the coming of the Beast. He freaked out and came to see me shortly after. He wanted to get the ELF back up and running because he figured he was going to stop the Convergence. He also thought that just by having the ELF operating near him that it somehow protected him. He really believed in this thing even though I thought it was crap."
"So this is before Edward Carter started assaulting women?" Wa asked.
"Yeah, I think so, at least I hadn't heard anything about that when Gary first came to me."
"And how was he going to stop Edward?" Wenton asked.
"He was going to keep the ELF on him."
"On him?"
"Yeah, like follow the guy and keep the ELF turned on. Keep bombard- ing him with these waves. I saw him once. He was skulking around in this big overcoat, wearing some ridiculous cap. He had a big briefcase, which I'm sure held the ELF but…" His voice trailed away.
"But what?" Wa pressed.
"Well, I told Gary that religion isn't just cellular excitation. Just because you zap someone doesn't mean they'll suddenly accept Jesus Christ. It's not that simple." He took a deep breath again. "He never listened. He was so sure that he knew how to stop the Convergence, so sure that Edward Carter was the one. He only believed in the Scrolls. He thought it was his destiny."
"What exactly did the Convergence Scroll say?" Wenton asked.
"Hold on." Nick struggled to his feet again and shuffled out of the kitchen. He soon returned with a binder and slapped it onto the table. It was a thick three-ring binder bulging at every opening with well-used paper. The front still showed the words "Scrolls" although some of the letters were virtually rubbed off.
"I've got a partial transcript in here," he said as he flipped through the binder, trying not to lose the papers that got free from the stuffed binder.
"Here it is." He pulled one section of paper out and handed it to Wenton. "At least this is the good part, the section that Gary was most concerned about."
Wenton took the page and read it through before handing it to Wa. It read:
CONVERGENCE PROPHECY
When the violent orphan of incest's mind is opened, then shall the Beast come. The sacrifice of the orphan will be the Beast's first portal, as this innocent of damaged mind provides the greatest step to the Omega. For I have already claimed the innocent's parentage through suicide and murder. The orphan will join me, and I will be whole again and enter the world, and the world will enter me.
[MISSING SECTION]
And the Beast shall claim those who are black inside and bring them forth in service. He upholds justice, but is corrupt. Men will bow before him or be forever lost in mad- ness. In number he will be ceaseless. He shall rise out of man and number greater than grains of sand by the sea.
The world will cry out in pain. The numbers of evil shall bring the world to the Omega.
[MISSING SECTION]
And even as the Watcher stumbles in his first attempt, still shall he guide balance to the world. For he who destroys can also create. The key lies in the opposite of love. The key lies in the destruction of the Convergence. The tainted heart of God's hand will prevail. From evil comes good.
[MISSING SECTION]
Take care in the confrontation of evil. Do not be lost in the blackness that hides beneath the still surface. Without strength or service, madness waits. Take care in the con- frontation of evil because although you may seek, you shall not see. The Beast will not reveal himself to all that seek him. He is a master of disguise and will be where you do not look. Inside the innocent lurks the promise of eternal death.
Wa finished reading and looked up, first at Wenton then at Nick. "This means what?"
Wenton snorted. "Don't you remember Carter's background? He had the religious freak parents. The dad raped his own daughter, and that's how Edward carne into the world. Then the dad lost it and killed the whole fam- ily before putting a bullet through his own head."
Wa nodded. "And that's the 'orphan of incest.' That's why Gary thought Edward Carter was going to let the Antichrist into the world."
"Exactly," Nick agreed.
"But what's it mean about the 'first step of the Omega'?" Wenton asked.
Nick shrugged. "I know what Gary thinks it means. He thinks that Edward was only the entrance for this evil. He was too weak a vessel to carry the Antichrist so the Antichrist would have to shift into someone else. Gary was prepared to keep hunting, only the Convergence Scroll doesn't give any details about what happens after the first step."
Wa frowned. "So the pastor's out there hunting down other people to zap with that ELF thing. Other people he thinks might become the next vessel for the Antichrist."
"What do you think all the electronics in this house are for?" he said throwing up his hands. "I've got every entrance, every wall, rigged to alert me to ELF waveforms. If Gary comes this way again, I'll know."
FORTY
The heavy flashlight was all Bob needed. It gave him a greater sense of control. He liked how the rubber grip conformed to the shape of his hand. He slowly rolled it with the tips of his fingers as he walked down the cellblock towards the hysterical, screaming inmate. Bob and Eric had ignored the noise for as long as possible, but they couldn't take it any longer. The shrink wouldn't stop screaming about conspiracy. It was really starting to aggravate the whole block.
He glanced up at the plastic bubble on the ceiling and watched a camera spin 180 degrees as Eric tracked him from the control station. He grinned and kept moving.
A voice called to him from his right, another cell. "You going to finally shut that crazy fuck up?"
Bob turned to him but didn't slow his pace. "Where's your compassion, buddy?"
He could now hear what Brian Claric was screaming. The psychologist was yelling about being in danger, knowing the real truth, needing to get out of here. Join the club, Bob thought. Everyone needs to get out of here.
***
"YOU NEED TO LISTEN TO ME! WE'RE ALL IN DANGER! IT WON'T STOP HERE! IT WON'T EVER STOP! YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO!"
Dr. Claric rested his head on the bars again. He tried to screen out the jeering and profanity of the other inmates. He knew they didn't understand and it would have been pointless to explain it to them. They just thought he was another lunatic. He lifted his head and let it drop back against the hard steel. He wished he could keep banging his head until everything he knew disappeared. He wanted to go back to a time when things made sense. He wanted to go back to a time when he felt like he had some control, when he felt competent
. That was all gone now.
"All right, what's the problem," a voice said, breaking through Dr. Claric's fog of hopelessness. He looked up and saw one of the guards and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God! Maybe he'll believe me.
"I…," he started and stopped. I need to sound rational I can't sound crazy or he'll walk away. Go slow. "I need to talk to you. I know something. Something serious."
Bob nodded. "Go ahead. Talk. Just stop rackin' yelling and disturbing the whole block. That shit can't go on here." A chorus of voices rose from the other cells in support of the guard. The inmates were shouting
"Everyone else SHUT UP!" Bob snarled without looking away from Dr. Claric. He shifted his heavy flashlight from one hand to the other. Whenever there was a confrontation he always became more conscious of what he was holding-where his nearest weapon was.
"Mr… Um, Mr…," Dr. Claric started, wanting to get a name. His clinical skills were intact. He knew a name would give him an advantage. He wanted the conversation to seem more personal, more one-on-one.
"Just call me Bob."
"Fine. Thank you, Bob. I know that I sound crazy. It's panic making me seem irrational. I'm really having a hard time holding it together. I'm really at a loss here. I'm hoping you'll at least listen to me. Hear what I have to say. After you listen, you decide what to do, okay? That's all I'm asking."
Bob realized his coffee was getting cold. He cursed himself for not bring- ing it with him. He didn't want to stand in this corridor for half an hour talking to a mental patient. He sighed.
"Fine. Talk. I'm listening-but make it quick."
Dr. Claric took a deep breath. "I'll be brief. Thank you very much. There's something going on. Something related to the work going on at ECOR Pharmaceuticals, but not really. There's something going on and people are getting sick-really sick. People are doing things they've never done before. People are slipping into something, something different, something bad. At first I thought it was ECOR testing illegal weapons, trying to tamper with people's minds. That's not it, there's more. Much more. I don't know who knows, but there's more to this. There's more people who are going to get sick-people are actually going to go insane or worse!" He stopped. He knew he was getting worked up and he needed to slow it down. He didn't want to come across as crazy. He desperately needed to convince this guard.
"I'm sorry. I know this sounds crazy. I sound crazy. I guess I almost am."
He stopped again. He didn't like Bob's slight grin. He knew he wasn't reaching him.
"Go on," Bob said, motioning with his flashlight. "I'm listening."
Dr. Claric frowned. He couldn't concentrate. His head felt heavy. He had so many thoughts that he was having trouble focusing on the most crucial information. He wanted to present his story in a rational, logical way.
"Listen, I'm not crazy. There's something going on right now. There's something evil happening. People are vulnerable. You've no idea how dangerous it is."
"How dangerous what is?" Bob asked, scrunching his face up at the question. As the words left him he realized he'd just shown interest and that was a stupid thing to do. He may have just extended their little talk by ten or fifteen minutes. Fuck.
Dr. Claric didn't know how to answer. The real answer was the forces of good and evil, but he knew he couldn't say that. It would sound too cliched, too ridiculous.
"Listen, Bob." He remembered to use the guard's name. "There's more to thinking and feeling than just chemicals and neurons. People are trying to change our brains but they don't realize the ripple effects it could have with other aspects of thinking. I think they've opened up something. I think they've changed people. Made them different, more, I don't know, more, more-"
Bob jumped in to save him and speed the story along. "What's this got to do with you?"
"With me? I just got in the middle somehow. I'm expendable. I'm nothing."
"The middle of what?"
"Exactly. I don't know, but it's something evil. Don't you see?"
The guard's expression indicated he didn't "see."
Dr. Claric continued, "Something has started. I thought at first that I could help. That was really naive. I didn't know what I was doing. I shouldn't have been so stupid. I've got a doctorate for Christ sake. But I know now that it isn't ECOR. After I was arrested I realized what was happening."
Bob's expression changed and he smiled and nodded. "That's nice. Now why don't you-"
"LISTEN!" Dr. Claric interpreted. "I need to tell you."
Bob didn't like being interrupted. Not by a fuckin' crazy murderer. "Fine, fine," he said holding both his hands up in defeat. "It was a very nice story. Thanks for sharing." He turned and took a step to walk away.
"WAIT!" Dr. Claric screamed after him. "I'm sorry. You've got to listen."
"Yeah, yeah," Bob said, waving back to him without turning around. "Just keep the noise down or I'll be back."
"WAIT!" Dr. Claric screamed again. "You don't understand. There's another common denominator."
"Whatever," Bob muttered and kept walking. Fuckin' needy shrink. My coffee better not be cold.
Dr. Claric turned and leaned heavily against the door to his cell. He slowly sank to the floor and held his hands to his face, sobbing.
"There's another common denominator. It's not Edward anymore," he whispered. "It never was."
FORTY-ONE
I know now, Gary thought as he walked swiftly down Cedar Street. He'd parked a few blocks back at Cornwallis Junior High School. He didn't want anyone to know he was there.
Gary found the weight of the briefcase threw his stride off, especially when he was walking quickly, but he didn't care. He believed he was about to save the world.
I'm going to get rid of the last bit of evil that would permit the Convergence. I'm going to rid the world of his filth.
Sweat soaked his hat and sent droplets down his face. It was far too warm for his overcoat but he wanted to wear it. It made him feel anonymous.
Your reign ends today. I won't let my world disappear. Not to you. I don't serve you. I serve the Lord and His power will deliver me.
Gary's foot caught on a raised piece of sidewalk and he stumbled for- ward a few steps before he caught himself. He quickly regained his balance. When he looked up, he saw a young boy standing on the sidewalk. The boy looked startled as though he were afraid that Gary was going to flatten him.
"Have you accepted the Lord?" Gary barked at him.
The boy's wide-eyed stare turned into a look of fear. "Mom," he cried and ran across the lawn.
Gary glanced up at the house and then quickly continued down the street.
***
"What the fuck is that?" Wenton yelled above the screeching alarm. "Don't fuckin' tell me that's the ELF alarm."
Nick was already on his feet. He had jumped out of his chair so fast that he'd knocked it clear acr
oss the floor. "It's the ELF. He's here."
"Pastor Wrightland?" Wa asked. He thought the entire situation was getting out of hand. He didn't know what to believe.
"Haven't you been listening?" Nick screamed at him. "Gary thinks he's protecting the world from the arrival of the Antichrist. He's going after people. Whoever he thinks might be a part of the coming of the Beast. He's coming after me!"
"Why you?" Wa yelled. "What'd you do?"
And then the alarm stopped. The silence was almost as unsettling as the noise.
The three men looked at each other and then scanned the kitchen.
"What just happened?"
"Sssh," Nick hissed urgently. "It's the thirty-second trip."
"The what?"
"Shut up. Just listen."
"For what?" Wenton asked, making no attempt to lower his voice.
Nick glared at him. "The trip shuts the alarm down for a few seconds so that I can get my bearings, try and locate the source of the ELF. If the waveforms are still present after the delay the alarm will sound again."
"You're fuckin' nuts," Wenton announced and stood. He strode out of the kitchen making his way around the filth and empty liquor bottles on his way to the front door. "If this pastor guy is actually here, I want to meet him."
"Don't!" Nick yelled and reached out to grab Wenton, to no avail.