Eve of Redemption (17 page)

The Serpent felt familiar rage begin to build. Lord Denizen had taught him to control it, but he would have none of this disrespect. His hand slipped behind his back, beneath the denim jacket he always wore, and slid a long knife from the scabbard hidden there.

The scrawny woman’s head cocked again at the sound of the blade sliding across leather. She recognized that sound. He could tell. The Serpent saw some of the cockiness leave her face.

“What’s this all about, anyway? Why you been followin’ us?”

The Serpent stepped closer, within striking distance. He listened for any sound from the men, but even the bugs had gone silent. It was just the two of them. This woman held no power over him. “To be honest, I don’t know myself. Now that’s funny, ain’t it? Real funny. I don’t even know myself.” He laughed. It felt good. He was back in control.

“You must know something, else you wouldn’t be chasin’ us all over.”

The Serpent thought about that. “What do you mean, chasing you? I only just saw you this morning.”

The woman smiled, like she knew something he didn’t.

“Oh, you may have just seen me this morning, but you been chasin’ us awhile now. You may not have known just who it was you was chasin’, but you been doing it. Why John Burke? Tell me that.”

The Serpent felt his composure slipping once again. Who was this ugly wart, anyway? Something stirred inside him in a not altogether pleasant way. He felt nauseated, like he would puke. Something was definitely wrong. “Burke is a threat. He must be eliminated.”

“John Burke? A threat? He’s nothing but a poor lonely man.”

His sweat glistened on the knife’s handle. He should just gut her. Get it over with and let Bob take out the cop. Part of him really wanted to tell her, though. At least as much as he knew himself, which wasn’t a whole lot.
What the heck,
he thought
. She’s gonna be dead in a couple minutes anyway.

“As a poor lonely man he isn’t a threat, but what if he changes? What if he finds out?”

“Finds out what?”

“That he has the power to save the world. To hold back the chaos that’s coming. Don’t ask me how. It’s not my place to know. Don’t know, don’t care. I get to kill people, and that’s all I really care about.”

“You’re a monster.”

A smile stretched across the Serpent’s face. “Ya got that right.”

With that, he lashed out with the knife, imagining it cutting into her sickly flesh. He could see on her face that she knew it was coming, was waiting for the pain. Then—his hand stopped, less than an inch from the woman’s gut.

No! Not again!

How could this be? Something was keeping him from killing this hag, just like he couldn’t kill Burke. A terrible rage welled up from deep within him. A roar of such utter madness as to nearly knock him senseless filled his head. He staggered back, the knife falling from his hand as he tried to hold his head together.

Then he heard her voice, almost a whisper.

“You can’t kill me, can you? He won’t let you. You can’t kill John either?”

The Serpent wanted to scream at her, to lash out. “Shut up. Just shut up. I will kill you, and then the other two. Nothing can stop me.” He gritted his teeth, but Denizen’s fury subsided. He would kill them—painfully.

“Like I said, I been dyin’ a long time, but God’s not done with me, apparently. He’s keepin’ me here for something.”

“God has no power over me.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong,” Her sightless eyes looked down at the knife lying where he had dropped it. “If God wants me alive, there is not a thing in the world you can do to change that. Not a thing.” She shrugged. “But if he wants to take me home, I’ve been ready to go for years now. Either way’s fine by me.”

The Serpent picked up the knife. He had a feeling their stalemate was about to break. He could wait. The old bat stared off into space, like she was waiting for someone.

“Lord Father, John Burke needs you real bad right now.”

Was she praying? “Shut up, lady. I don’t want to hear it.”

“You been watching over me for some time now, Lord, and I do appreciate it. Now John Burke could sure use some of that lookin’ after.” She smiled. “But you already know that, don’t you, Lord? You brought us all here for just this reason.”

“Shut up!” The Serpent gripped the knife so hard his hand cramped. In his mind, he was burying it in the center of the old hag’s black heart, but his body refused to cooperate.

The woman closed her eyes. “Yes, Holy Father, I understand. I’ve been ready for some time now. I thank you for letting me be a small part of all this.”

A single tear slipped from beneath one eyelid and rolled down her cheek.

M
adness swirled around Burke in a frenzy of chaos as death came for him. There was no escape. He wondered if it had been like this for Laura and Sara. Had his little girl suffered as he was suffering now? The thought made him curse his existence all the more.

The blackness of death converged on him now, poised to devour his soul. All thought fled.

My son.

Something pulled him back, not far, but enough to prevent him from stepping off the ragged edge of existence. He grasped at the unknown entity, as if grasping at a spiderweb to save himself from drowning.

My son.

A pitch-black tornado swirled around him as he searched for the source of the voice. The dark wind tore at him, pulling him down into the pit of the damned.

I’m here.

It came again, stronger this time. Something caught his attention, something there in the darkness. Light. Yes, a light. Distant, faint, but a light nonetheless. He struggled for it, willed himself to fly to it, but he was too weak. Death had a hold on him and would not give up its prize.

THE SERPENT KNEW without a doubt that something had changed. A smile played on his lips as he saw the woman felt it as well. He spun the knife around in his palm. A whisper passed in the wind, and his smile widened.

Her God had abandoned her.

She said nothing, just stared up the trail where the men had disappeared a short time before.

The Serpent spun the knife, took a step forward, and put a foot on the bottom stair to the door of the cabin in which the woman stood. Her blank eyes turned to him, her face finally showing the fear she should have felt all along.

“What’s wrong, lady? You don’t look so good.”

Having said it, he realized he was right. She didn’t look good, not good at all. She seemed to have aged at least ten years in a few seconds. This sickly chick had lost her protection. And she was going to pay for it. He moved to the top stair. She sensed his presence and stepped back into the gloom of the old cabin. Things were going his way again.

Yep, life was good.

WHO ARE YOU?

I am who I am.

Burke felt the torment lessen.

Who are you?

I am life.

I don’t want to live. I don’t deserve to live.

Burke’s gaze focused on the light. It shone, still little more than a dot in the distance. Waiting? The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, but the dot of light held him.

Are you God?

What does your heart tell you?

I don’t believe in God.

Search your heart, John Burke.

I hate you.

Burke knew the words to be true, but he was not prepared for the pain they caused him. His soul cried out with loneliness and sorrow. A weight too great to bear crushed him from all sides in the near-total darkness, broken only by the dot of light.

If you are God, where were you when my father murdered my mother and sister? When my wife was killed? Why didn’t you protect my family? They believed in you. Where were you?

I was with you all along.

With me? What about them? They all died.

Anguish surged through him.

Death, as you know it, is only the beginning.

Then give me death. Give me death, and take this pain away from me.

There is more required of you in this world. It is not yet your time.

What could God possibly need of me? I’m no one.

Burke thought he heard a gentle laugh.

I do not need you, my son. Your daughter does.

My daughter?

Yes.

She’s alive? Sara’s alive?

Burke sensed truth in the words. His daughter was alive and needed him. He could still feel the overwhelming presence, though not as strongly. The dot of light continued to hold him, and he knew that the light was life. The light was God and all that he offered. Only through the light would Burke be able to help Sara.

Suddenly, Burke wanted to live. Wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything. His daughter was alive and needed him. He would not let her down again.

Never again.

Burke set his mind on the light. The darkness still swirled around him. Pain and torment tore through his being, but they had lost their power over him. He focused on the light now. The light was all that mattered. He willed himself toward it, and reached out with invisible fingers to grasp the life outside the darkness that had controlled him.

Burke heard a low groan that quickly rose to a howl. For a moment, he thought he had fallen back into the agony, but those were not his cries. It was something else. Something in the darkness with him. Not death. Something that traveled with death. Something that did not want him to escape. Something that wanted him dead.

The light grew brighter and bolder as he pulled himself toward it. Death continued to grasp at him, but it had weakened, losing its power to control him. The thought of his daughter, his Sara, gave him a strength he had long forgotten.

I am with you, my son. Always.

Burke felt time itself shudder at those words and, just like that, he knew them to be true. The God of the universe was in the midst of this madness with him, strengthening him in his battle. He had fought belief for so long, but the hope that now flooded his heart, the hope of a second chance with his daughter, broke the stone shell that covered his heart. He wanted to believe, wanted the life God offered him. His heart soared toward the light. He felt the darkness fall away—the pain, the sorrow, the heartache was nothing in the face of such loving power.