He got into the car, turned the ignition, and peeled out. He flipped open his phone and dialed a number. After a couple of rings, Dylan could hear someone answer on the other end.
“Chief Woolsey, immediately!” Jeremiah demanded. After a few seconds, the prophet could hear a deeper voice on the other end. Jeremiah looked at a street sign as he passed it. “Joe, it’s me, and you need to be fast. I’m on 42nd street. Get your boys off of me.”
The cops were getting closer; one was trying to pass Jeremiah on the left. Presumably, to attempt to force him off the road.
“If you don’t want them to die,” Jeremiah said to the person on the phone, “you’ll do it, now.”
Jeremiah took a ninety degree right turn at sixty miles per hour and lost the one trying to pass him. “I’ve still got one,” he shouted into the phone.
As if in confirmation, Dylan spotted the cherries in the rearview turn onto this road, too. Jeremiah was keeping out of range, but he hadn’t lost it. Jeremiah was passing cars in the wrong lane, weaving in and out of traffic, but the officer was still in pursuit.
“Joe,” Jeremiah warned, “I don’t want to have to shoot one of your officers, but this is grating on my nerves.”
Dylan was watching the police car behind him, when he saw it turn off its light and slow down. At the next intersection, it turned.
“Thank you,” Jeremiah said and snapped his phone shut. “About time. Are you still doing all right, Dylan?”
“Yeah. I’m a little weak, but I’ll be fine.”
“Good,” Jeremiah replied. “I have an appointment that I must attend, but it won’t be for about three hours. You rest now.”
“Okay,” Dylan agreed wholeheartedly. He closed his eyes and felt himself get dragged into unconsciousness.
***
“Okay,” Matt said. “Do you think you’ll be all right?”
They were standing in front of the building that the speech and drama classes were held in. Alex was a little nervous. He hoped they wouldn’t ask him to give any speeches today. Actually, he’d prefer not to have to give any speeches at all. That, however, did not seem very likely, considering that it was an integral part of his calling.
“I won’t be too far away,” Matt added, sensing Alex’s concern. “And remember: this is college. If you need to leave, then leave. No one will even bat an eye.”
“All right,” Alex agreed. “But, if you get a call--”
Matt laughed. “If you call me out of class, I’ll find you. Don’t worry. I don’t expect anything to happen today. Oh, and I took the liberty of picking something up yesterday.”
“What?”
“Well, since we’re both Nisus fans, and they will be touring through here in a little under two weeks, I decided to get us some tickets.”
Alex’s heart jumped. “Really?”
“Yeah. And I got backstage passes.”
“Oh my God, Matt! We’ll get to meet the band?”
“I’ve already met them,” Matt explained with a grin.
“I should have guessed,” Alex huffed. “Does Jeremiah own Nisus, too?”
“No,” Matt said. “But Lonny Talbott...Let’s just say you have something in common with him.”
Alex’s eyes went wide, “You mean he’s--”
“Right,” Matt interrupted. “His music has quite a draw, doesn’t it?”
Alex shook his head. “I should have known.”
“Well, Mr. Kinsfield,” Matt added, “have fun in Speech.”
“I’ll try,” Alex replied.
He walked into the building, still thinking about what Matt had told him. Initially, it had surprised him that Lonny Talbott was a prophet, but, after Matt had explained it to him, it made perfect sense. Alex began to wonder who else might be a prophet, who else had amazing abilities that could only be explained by divine intervention.
As he entered the classroom, he realized he was still kind of early. Most of the desks were empty. He decided to take one toward the back of the room. Maybe, that way, he could avoid any conversation on the first day of this class. He took a seat in the middle of the row, also to keep from attracting attention, and pulled out a tablet of paper, a pen, and the textbook for this class. He had questioned Matt about having a textbook for Speech; it seemed a little superfluous. How much could he possibly have to learn about the subject that he would need a book for it?
He had opened it and was flipping through the chapters when he saw who he assumed to be the professor walk in. The man was about average height, and he was rotund—but only in the stomach. It looked like he had an inner tube underneath his tacky Hawaiian shirt. His hair was gray and thinning, and he wore his glasses on the end of his long nose.
Alex looked at his schedule and saw that the professor’s name was Collins. Dr. Collins swaggered over to where one young lady was sitting. She didn’t even seem to notice him until he started pontificating in her general direction. Then, she looked up at him and nodded and smiled nervously. Dr. Collins laughed a high-pitched and obviously fake laugh and walked back around his desk, where he proceeded to shuffle through papers in his briefcase.
Alex went back to looking through the book. He was reading, in chapter six, about the power of anaphora. The book used Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech as an example. The repetition of the phrase, “I have a dream,” served to drive a point home to all of those who heard the speech. Like a refrain in a powerful song, the audience could not help but be reminded that there was a greater theme within the speech. And later, after the speech had achieved the desired effect, those four words would always stand for hope and determination. Alex was fascinated. This was the kind of thing he would have to master if he were to manipulate the hearts and minds of the people who would listen to him.
Then, she walked in the room. Alex knew it before he even looked up to see her. When he did, though, he was again drawn to her beauty. It was the girl who kept catching his eye. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, just like the first day he saw her. She wore a tight red UNLV t-shirt and pale blue jeans. She looked like she wasn’t sure whether or not she was in the right classroom. Dr. Collins noticed, and he was all too eager to help. He looked at her schedule and smiled. She was in the right room. Alex smiled, too. Dr. Collins motioned for her to sit down, indicating the front row. She nodded. But she didn’t sit in the front row.
Instead, she walked to the back of the room. In fact, she sat two rows to the left of Alex. The two of them had eye contact for a moment, and then Alex looked away. Alex desperately wanted to talk to her, and since Elizabeth was proving to be a disappointment, the temptation became stronger. He took his cell phone out of his pocket and checked the time. There were still ten minutes before class started. He took a couple deep breaths, started stuffing things into his backpack, got up, and moved to the desk right next to her.
She, of course, noticed the gesture. “Hello,” she said, smiling at him.
“I’ve seen you around campus.”
“And I’ve seen you,” she returned, looking back to her schedule.
“I’m...” Alex caught himself. “I’m Tom. Uh...Thomas Kinsfield.”
He stuck out his hand, then pulled it back, realizing how stupid it looked—and how stupid he had sounded. If he were to become a leader of men, he was going to have to learn to be a little more suave.
She looked at him and the hand he had retracted, and she giggled a little. “Well, Thomas Kinsfield, it’s a pleasure to have met you.” With that, she stuck out her hand.
Alex’s eyes widened. He didn’t know if she was being sincere or if she was mocking him. He had little choice, though. He shook her hand, and they both laughed.
“I’m Jessica Smith.”
“Is this your first semester?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Does it show?”
“Uh,” Alex considered, measuring his words, “only a little.”
They both laughed again. Alex could not get over how blue
her eyes were. They seemed almost otherworldly. They captured Alex’s attention, and he could not keep from looking into them. They were cold, and they were in complete contrast to her face, which seemed so soft and delicate.
“May I have my hand back?” she asked.
“Oh,” Alex said, snapping out of a dream. “Right.” He let go of her hand and, blushingly, looked away.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I moved from a small town, and this is all a little disorienting. I’ve never been anywhere like Las Vegas before.”
“Yeah,” Alex laughed. “I know the feeling. I came from a small town, too. This is all a little strange.”
“Really? That’s a relief. I wasn’t sure if I was just a country girl out of her element. It’s nice to know that other people feel the same way. And, I’m such a long way from my parents in Missouri. I’m already starting to feel homesick.”
“You’re from Missouri?” Alex asked. “I’m from Missouri, too. Where did you live?”
She smiled. “Oh, I’m from a little town just west of Jefferson City.”
“I lived near Kansas City,” Alex added. He was emboldened by their similar origins. “Missouri can be a nice place to live, but it’s a little small.”
“Yeah,” she agreed.
“Okay, class,” Dr. Collins announced. “We still have some missing people, but I’m sure they’ll continue to trickle in. I’m Bert Collins, and this is Speech and Rhetoric 101.”
Alex reluctantly pulled his attention away from Jessica and focused on Dr. Collins, who told them about what they would be expected to do in order to pass this class. He handed out a syllabus and read it, word for word, to the class. He explained that his class was easy, and someone would have to try very hard to fail it. He indicated where his office hours could be located, where his office was, and what his phone number was. Essentially, the rest of the class time was spent answering questions. At the end of class, Alex was putting his stuff back in his bag, and he happened to glance over at Jessica, who was standing and looking at him.
“Here,” she said, handing him a slip of paper.
Alex took it, hoping and praying that he was right about what it was. He opened it and his wishes were confirmed.
“That’s my cell number. Give me a call sometime. Maybe, we could talk more about Missouri.”
“I’d love to,” Alex retorted, almost gagging on his words.
Jessica gave him a half smile. “See ya ‘round, Thomas Kinsfield.”
She walked away. Alex was mesmerized by her movements, not to mention her ass. She stopped and, over her shoulder, threw him one last look. He smiled stupidly and waved goodbye. She shook her head, smiling, and waved back. Then, as an end to Alex’s fantasy, she walked out the door. Alex finished packing and left soon after. To his disappointment, Jessica Smith was nowhere to be seen.
***
Around the table were the most important people currently in the mansion: Elizabeth, Marla, Higgins, and Lao Shi. They were sitting in the conference room, and the order of business was most important.
“We cannot afford to let this message go any further,” Elizabeth stated. “Metatron is trying to scare us, but we can’t let him.”
“I’ll admit,” Higgins started, “I’m kind of concerned. He can make it past our security. I don’t know what you two are capable of,” he indicated the two prophets, “but I don’t think my men can stop him.”
“Jeremiah can’t stop him,” Marla added, “and he knows Metatron better than anyone here.”
“The problem is,” Elizabeth said, “if we have to constantly worry about protecting our own home turf, we are not going to be able to watch out for Matt and Alex. We don’t know where Metatron is located. We don’t know when he’s going to strike or where he’s going to strike. We need answers—solutions.”
“We could consolidate,” Marla offered. “We could call in everyone who is not currently in the mansion. We could ask Abbie, Matt, and Alex to all stay here. They wouldn’t be too far from the school, and there would be a strength in numbers.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. That could easily work against us. Metatron would have a single target. And, we need to maintain the image we’ve created for Matt and Alex. Our biggest advantage, right now, is that Metatron doesn’t know where they are or what they’re doing. He most certainly knows that Alex is important, but he shouldn’t know what our plans are. He knows that Abbie is there, but we should have a little time before Matt and Alex are discovered.”
“Unless he already knows,” Lao Shi added, “and he does not care.”
Elizabeth looked doubtful. “If he knew, he would kill them.”
“That is not necessarily true,” Lao Shi countered. “He could probably kill us if he wanted to.”
“He’s shown that he can get into the mansion without encountering any real resistance,” Higgins agreed. “I think Lao Shi has a point. There’s a message here.”
“Surrendering is unthinkable,” replied Marla.
Lao Shi nodded. “Of course it is, but that does not change the message. He is giving us a chance to walk away. It would save us our lives, and it would save him the trouble, as little as it may be, of killing us.”
“This is like chess,” Elizabeth noted, “and we’re pawns. By ourselves, we are sorely outgunned, but a good chess player knows how to use pawns effectively. We need to create a distraction.”
“A distraction?” Marla prompted.
A sly grin came over Elizabeth’s face. “Yes. Jeremiah is currently trying to pick off pieces on the board to reduce the opposition. We should help.”
Marla’s eyes went wide. “You’re talking about killing demons.”
“Maybe,” Elizabeth said. “But there are other ways to distract him, too. He has weaknesses that we might be able to exploit.”
“And there are other ways to piss him off,” Higgins cautioned. “What if we antagonize him enough that he stops warning us and starts killing us?”
“That,” Lao Shi stated, “may be a chance we will have to take. I am intrigued, Elizabeth. What are you suggesting?”
Elizabeth drifted into contemplation. “It would take some doing, but I might be able to start tying up his resources.”
“He has as much money and as many influences as Jeremiah,” Marla added, “if not more. I don’t think we have the capability to find what he has, let alone tie it up.”
“I’ll start working on that,” Elizabeth said. “We also need to work on helping Jeremiah with what he is doing. Higgins, if I can locate a demon and get you some help, do you think you could kill it?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Higgins answered apprehensively. “You have some of the best trained men in the world here in this compound, but I am completely out of my element with demons.”
“How would you even locate them?” Marla wondered.
“I’m sure that Jeremiah and Abbie both know where I can find some demons, but I have a few theories, too,” Elizabeth explained. “Jeremiah told me, once, that demons are especially cold-blooded, like reptiles. That is one of the primary reasons he chose to build the mansion in a desert. I can design equipment that might be able to determine significant difference in body heat. He also told me something peculiar about devil worshipers. He said that they don’t worship Lucifer, even though they might think they do, but demons are actually at the center of some of those rituals.”
Marla looked exasperated. “You’re kidding. There’s actually truth to those cults?”
“Not all of them,” Elizabeth corrected. “Probably not the ones that are obviously phony. However, from time to time, there are cults that exhibit a much darker side, and there are supernatural occurrences that we can’t discount. Jeremiah might be able to give us some traits to watch for when looking for actual demon-led groups. He may have even had some, himself, at one point.”
“We could also try to lure them out,” Lao Shi suggested.
“How?” Higgins asked.
&n
bsp; “Misinformation,” Lao Shi retorted. “We could let them believe that they have stumbled upon something that could assist them in their struggles against us. Then, when they react, we could spring a trap.”
“Good idea,” Elizabeth said. “Further, we know that Metatron often uses human troops, very much the same way we do. We need to begin thinking about means for identifying those people and figuring out how we could easily eliminate them. Anything we can take away from Metatron is going to give us a better likelihood of survival.”
Marla sighed. “You are suggesting quite an operation.”
“And you have not considered how it might compromise the security of the mansion,” Higgins added. “If you take security away from this compound in order to do something that may not even be possible, it will make us weaker against the inevitable attack.”
“If we wait for Metatron to attack us, it will be too late,” Lao Shi said.
“He’s right,” Elizabeth affirmed. “The only chance we have is to pick off as many of Metatron’s pawns as we can, so the number that eventually comes after us is smaller. What we have protecting this mansion is obviously not adequate, anyway. The resources we have can best be used by diverting his attention and forcing him to regroup--”
“Or eliminate the threat by launching a full offensive against us,” Higgins interrupted.
Elizabeth scowled. “Well, we’ll just have to hope he isn’t ready for that yet. We begin this immediately. Higgins, you will start by getting us some more mercenaries. We’ll need every available gun. Marla, I want you to find out anything you can about cults that might actually be demon-sponsored. Lao Shi, you’ll be working on your misinformation tactic. I want you to brainstorm about the possibility of creating decoys and baiting demons. We need to figure out some way to draw them out with minimal casualties on our part. And any divine inspiration you might receive would be most helpful. Everybody remember: we are not going after Metatron. He is too powerful. But we might be able take out some of his cronies or, in some other way, disrupt his plans. I have no illusions about what I am suggesting. It will be dangerous, but it’s vital that we do something. At least one of these plans should do something for us. Does everyone understand?”
Demonic Designs (To Absolve the Fallen) Page 29