by Tom Mohan
Things were moving faster now and he found he liked the quicker pace. All the months of tracking Burke—worming his way into the man’s mind, learning to control him without giving himself away, driving him nearly to suicide—seemed boring compared to this.
The Serpent let his mind wander among the new inhabitants of the rotting resort. Most were about as smart as bricks, though he did pick up intelligence in a few. Nothing to write home about, but still surprising. Burke was either gone or blocked from him, which he found strange. Whatever Burke had done to break the Serpent’s spell on the dead bodies had hit the him like lightning crashing out of the storm. This game was becoming so much more than he had anticipated. He had known his growing powers were intended for some great purpose. How could they not be? The petty murders and other interesting training had all been leading up to this, whatever this was. He didn’t really care if he knew, as long as it kept him entertained.
The Serpent let his mind flow out until he found one that would work. Not the perfect specimen, but it would work.
Come to me.
The Serpent felt the mind react.
Come to me.
This is almost too easy, he thought.
He waited until he saw the shadow pass into the trees. No one else followed the lone biker. The Serpent felt power flow through him as he stepped up behind his unwary prey. A quick snap of the neck, and it was done. Quiet and clean—not his usual method, but necessary this time.
Then the pain began. The Serpent tossed his head back in a silent scream as bone and tendon reshaped. His face felt like someone had smashed it with a hammer and was now trying to put it back together. Agony like this was beyond his comprehension, but he remained silent and conscious. He was the Serpent, and this was his purpose.
It was over quicker than he thought it would be, and he found himself gasping as the last pieces slipped into place. The Serpent looked down at his new body. He didn’t need a mirror to tell him he was the spitting image of the dead biker at his feet.
“Well now, that’s different,” he muttered as he grabbed the body and pulled it deeper into the forest. A quick change into the dead biker’s clothes and he would be a new creation altogether.
JOSIAH STRODE ALONG the path from the lake. Most of the others had crashed an hour or so ago, but he had been deep in conversation with someone he was not even sure existed. The little girl had seemed so real to him at the time, but as he strolled back to the rest of the group, he had his doubts. It wasn’t just that she was a four-year-old dressed in a potato sack—though that should have been enough to tip him off—it was what she asked of him. No, not asked, demanded.
“You have to let Martinez get close to Tiny,” she had said. “Dave has knowledge that Tiny needs.”
“What kind of knowledge?”
The little girl had given him a grown-up look. “You and Tiny both love Jesus very much in your hearts, and Jesus knows that. The problem is, you don’t really know Jesus. Some of the things you are teaching your people are wrong.”
Josiah had stared at this little girl like she was a space alien. Maybe she was, for all he knew. “I’ve always been the one to help Tiny with his Bible study. God talks through me, helps me understand.”
The little girl had smiled at him, a sad smile to melt his heart. “Someone’s been talking to you, Josiah, but it isn’t God.”
“Now you don’t know what you’re saying, little miss. I know it’s God that speaks to me. He even said so.”
“Kneel down here in front of me, Josiah. Come on, I don’t bite. Not hard, anyway.” He’d done as she asked, getting down on her level. She’d put her hand against his forehead. “Just relax, Josiah, and let the voice talk to you—if it will.”
He’d listened for that voice, the voice of God. The silence in his head went on, and he willed the voice to talk to him. But nothing happened. The little girl’s hand began to feel warm, and then hot, on his forehead. He’d heard the voice then. Not the soothing words that usually filled his head with truth, but foul words in a rough, furious voice. The voice cursed everything, including God himself, before fading into a sputtering gurgle and dying away. In his mind, Josiah pictured a huge fire burning low, running out of fuel before dying. He realized tears ran down his cheeks.
Josiah thought back over the times the voice had spoken to him, explained things he had been certain only God could explain. The girl’s touch had revealed a truth he was loath to accept. “I’ve been a fool haven’t I, little miss?”
She smiled at him again, and Josiah knew he would do anything for her. “No, Josiah, not a fool—human.”
Josiah had never felt so confused. “But if the voice was evil, why was it always telling me stuff from the Bible?”
“The enemy is smart. He knows if he tries to guide you too far off, you’ll catch on. So he uses the word of God, in a twisted sort of way, to make believers think they are following God when, in fact, they are wandering farther and farther away from him.”
“Like I said, a fool.”
The little girl smiled and patted the ground beside her. “Sit beside me, Josiah.”
Then she told him what he would have to do.
BURKE MANAGED TO rouse himself in mid-afternoon. He looked around for Martinez, but he was alone in the cabin. He ran his hands over his face in an effort to wipe the weariness from it. It didn’t work. His aching body felt like it had been run over by a bulldozer. The despair and hopelessness he thought were gone were worming their way back into his heart and mind. He sighed. One more battle for him to fight in the midst of all that was happening.
He found most of the group circled around the cold fire pit. In the center stood the hulking form of Tiny, who was at the tail end of a sermon. Whatever their motives, Burke thought the Lord’s Rebels took their faith seriously. He saw Martinez standing off to one side and moved up beside him.
“He’s got it all wrong,” Martinez said as Burke approached.
“Really? I just caught the end.”
Martinez shook his head. “It’s not so wrong that novices would notice, but he’s mixed the Bible’s teachings with man-made religion, and that almost always leaves a theological mess.”
Burke looked confused. “I thought the Bible was all about religion?”
“It is, in a sense. The Bible’s about relationship with God and with one another. The problem comes when people want to put their own spin on things to make it more appealing. Trinny would have stopped Tiny mid-sermon and given him a lesson or two.”
“Well,” Burke said, “why didn’t you do that?”
“Are you kidding? I’m not Trinny. They’d have kicked the crap out of me.”
Burke laughed. “Yeah, they probably would have. So, what does Tiny have wrong?”
Martinez paused for a moment. “He’s preaching the need to earn salvation in order to be fit to come close to God. That’s backward. The Bible teaches that we can only be saved through faith in Jesus Christ. This faith then allows God’s Spirit to come and live in us, and that allows us to change and grow close to God. Through relationship with God and people, we begin to repair the rifts between us.”
Burke thought about that. “God comes and lives in us, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s kind of weird.”
Martinez frowned. “You’re the one with the invisible friend.”
“Good point.” He scanned the crowd of bikers. “That little guy, Josiah, keeps looking over here.”
“Yeah, I think he has some kind of beef with me, but I sure don’t know what I did to upset him.”
The two men remained where they were as the rest of the crowd dissipated. A couple of the bikers hung back, chatting with one another and occasionally glancing at Burke and Martinez. Martinez nodded in their direction. “Our handlers, I’m guessing. Trying not to be obvious.”
“They’re not doing a good job of it. I need to talk to Tiny. I don’t know what our next move is, but we need to know where we stand
here.”
Tiny saw them and waved them over. Josiah had joined the big biker, and the two of them sat on one of the logs surrounding the cold fire pit. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite pigs,” Tiny said as they approached. “Have a seat. What did you think of the sermon? Jesus is good, isn’t he?”
“Sorry, I only caught the end,” Burke said. Tiny turned to Martinez.
Martinez hesitated a moment before speaking. “It was…inspirational. I’ll give it that.”
Tiny’s face turned hard. “You don’t like my preaching?”
Josiah stepped in. “Tiny, maybe these here fellas might be able to help. You know, with the Bible stuff?”
Tiny shot Josiah a questioning look. “What do I need them for? You’ve always done me good, and God talks through you. What else do I need?”
“Well, Tiny…” Josiah seemed reluctant to go on. “God told me this morning that you will be needing these fellas—especially this big guy here—to teach you things. He said, ah, he said he has better things to do than teach us what he done already taught others.”
Tiny squinted through bushy eyebrows at his friend. “Did he now? God told you that?”
Josiah nodded, but didn’t meet Tiny’s eyes. “Yeah.”
“Look,” Burke interrupted, impatient with all this God talk. “I don’t mean to change the subject, but what are your plans for us, anyway?”
Tiny turned his glare in Burke’s direction. “Well now, that all kind of depends, doesn’t it? Yesterday, my man Josiah wasn’t too sure about you, but today it seems he’s changed his tune.” Tiny leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I trust Josiah like I ain’t never trusted anyone before. He helps me understand my Lord Jesus.” Tiny tapped his head with a big finger. “Josiah hears God in his head, you know. We don’t have no preacher here to teach us, so we have to do the best we can. Now, Josiah says you two are good men, and that’s good enough for me. A word of caution, though—not everyone puts as much stock in what Josiah says as I do. You might want to remember that.”
Burke thought of the woman who had stared daggers at them the night before. It would be too much to expect a group this size to be of one mind on everything, and he guessed they didn’t take to strangers quickly.
“Now,” Tiny said, slapping his thighs and sitting up straight. “You ask what my plans are for you? Nothing. I have no plans for you. You are free to leave whenever you want. Be careful, though, unless you’re headed back to the city. Cops ain’t popular out here.”
“Yeah, we’ve noticed,” Martinez said. He turned to Burke. “What’s our next move?”
Burke thought about it for a moment. Nothing had really changed. “If Sara is alive, and I believe she is, I have to find her.” He shrugged. “But I still have no idea where to look.”
“Who’s Sara?” Tiny asked.
“My daughter. Sara’s my daughter.”
“Yer little angel agrees,” Josiah said.
“You mean Red?”
“By the way, she’s none too happy with you. Said you yelled at her, hurt the little tyke’s feelings.”
Burke’s mouth fell open at the accusation. “I hurt her feelings? She—” He stopped, glancing at Martinez. The big man didn’t seem to notice. Though Burke was still furious with Red, he felt a stab of jealousy that this biker had taken his place.
“Like I was saying, the angel says you need to go find Sara. That Sara is still alive and needs you real bad.”
“That’s what I’m hoping, but I have no idea where to look,” Burke said, voice deep with emotion. He still couldn’t believe that after all this time his daughter was alive.
An infuriating smile was plastered on Josiah’s face. “I just might.”
Burke spun on the little man. “You know where Sara is? You can take me to her?”
“Slow down there, Papa Bear. I said I might know.”
Burke’s heart pounded in his chest. “Well?”
“We go east.”
“That’s it? East? That’s all you know?” Burke felt disappointment slam into him like a giant fist, but Josiah appeared unfazed.
“It’s more than you knew before. Besides, you got to start somewhere, and east is as good a direction as any.” Josiah turned to his leader. “I’m thinking quest here, Tiny. You?”
Tiny thought it over. “A good old-fashioned quest would be really righteous.” He rubbed his tangled beard with one big hand. “Off to save the damsel in distress from the forces of evil. Yeah, I like that.”
“Just like in those old Tolkien stories, eh?” Josiah said.
Burke looked at Martinez. “You have any idea what they’re talking about?”
“Nope.”
“Fantasy writer from the old days,” Josiah explained. “Tiny and me are big fans. Nothing like a good quest to liven things up.”
That didn’t sound human,” Kyle said.
No it didn’t, Sara thought. Not human at all.
“Which way did it come from?” Sara’s head spun back and forth as the primal shriek continued to echo through the passage.
“I don’t know,” Kyle said. “Could have been either way, but I’m guessing that way.” He nodded in the opposite direction from where they had come.
“The same way Ryan and Dana went.” Sara paused only a moment before picking up the lantern and starting down the tunnel.
“Whoa, what are you doing?” Kyle pushed by her and stopped, blocking the way.
“I’m going to find my friends.”
“We don’t know what’s down there. We don’t know where this tunnel goes. We don’t even know that your idiot friends are there. They probably got spooked and high-tailed it back to the Keep.”
Sara shook her head. “No, they wouldn’t have done that. They’d have stopped and found me. Or, if something was chasing them, they would have grabbed the lantern on their way by. It makes no sense that Ryan would have left it here. I’m going after them. Come along or go back. It makes no difference to me.”
Kyle actually smiled at her. “You may just be the most hard-headed person I know.”
“Yeah? Probably.” She pushed past him. “You coming or not?”
“I’m coming—though I know I’m gonna regret it.”
They hastened down the narrow passage. The light proved to be a major advantage over the darkness of their initial trip. For the first time, Sara saw the tunnel was cut directly from the stone. The whole thing made no sense. How could they travel through a tunnel carved from solid stone and reach the third floor of the Keep? It wasn’t like the place was built into the side of a mountain or anything. Of course, strange things did happen in Ash-Shaytan’s Keep. Legend said the great god had given specific instructions for the building and had once physically walked the halls with his servants. The Keep held many secrets, and a trainee would not be privy to most of them. Apparently, they had stumbled onto one such secret in this tunnel. She thought again of the scream they had heard and hoped they were not about to stumble upon another.
Something on the floor of the tunnel a few yards ahead caught Sara’s eye. She hurried forward and went down on one knee, holding the light up so she could see clearly.
“That’s blood,” Kyle said from over her shoulder.
Sara nodded, not trusting herself to talk. She stood up and squinted into the darkness ahead. The lantern was better than nothing, but it still didn’t illuminate enough of the tunnel for her comfort. “We have to keep going,” she said.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“They might be hurt.”
“Want me to lead?”
What Sara really wanted was to wake up and find this whole thing had been one horrible nightmare. She had already found one friend dead today. She couldn’t handle the idea of losing two more. Her parents, Master Casius, Sam—the war that had always seemed so far away was all around them.
“Sara?”
“What? No, I’m good. Come on, let’s go.” She forced her feet to move, and that action brought back t
he courage she had allowed to slip. She had trained for this war. They all had. She just hoped it was enough. She moved slower now, resisting the urge to hurry. If Dana and Ryan were in trouble, it would do no good for her to rush in without some idea of what she was facing.
The wall to her left drew her attention. Slime, just like on the ladder rungs, hung from a crack in the stone.
“Is that what I think it is?” Kyle asked.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Wait, look at this.” Kyle pointed at the crack in the wall.
“It’s the stuff that was on the ladder. What about it?”
“Not the slime, the wall.” He moved his finger along the crack, then up and down, indicating parallel cracks.
Sara knew she was missing something.
“Stand back a little. Look at the whole thing.”
Sara was growing impatient with this whole distraction, but she did as he asked. Taking a step back, she focused on the slime and the cracks.
She gasped. “Those look like claw marks!”
Kyle nodded. “That’s what they look like to me. And I think the slime might be some kind of drool.”
Sara wiped her hands on her jacket. “What could do something like that? Even a bear couldn’t rip solid stone.” As if on cue, the primal scream again echoed down the tunnel, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. “That was closer,” Sara whispered.
“Yeah, it was. Still want to go on?”
“No.”
“But you’re going to anyway, aren’t you?”
Sara sent up a prayer to Ash-Shaytan and nodded. Her friends were missing, and poor Sam was…She wiped a tear from her cheek and forced the thought away.
Kyle sighed. “That’s what I thought.”
Sara took another look at the gouges in the wall and turned back toward the unknown end of the tunnel. She paused. “Is that light?” She lowered the lantern and moved it behind her. It was light. “I think we’re coming up on something,” she said.