Piercing the Darkness (87 page)

“I’ll look into it,” said Mr. Woodard, looking pale.

Miss Brewer went back to her classroom. Mr. Woodard picked up the phone and dialed Betty Hanover, the Number One power-holder on the school board. “Betty? Bruce Woodard. Listen, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I want you and the rest of the school board to be clear on where I stand in these matters. I will
not
be left holding this thing, understand? I can be heavy-handed if I have to be . . .”

The demons from LifeCircle and now the survivors from the elementary school turned and fled before the pursuing angels. Terga, the Prince of Bacon’s Corner! He controlled the school board! Surely
he
could stem this tide and stand against this attack!

Amethyst was not quick to flee, but indecisive. Where was Ango?

The demons rushed away, leaving her behind. She searched for Ango. Was he here?

STUNG! An angelic sword caught her under the arm and she went spinning, plummeting down toward the school. She reached toward that black tar roof, even pushed toward it with the power of her wings. It was a safe place. She’d flourished in those rooms before. Maybe someone below could help her, hide her . . .

The black roof slapped by her, then the rafters, the insulation, the ceiling, a classroom full of children—

SWIPE! A warrior finished her, and she fell dissolving to the floor, a smoldering heap just behind Miss Brewer, just below a crayon drawing on the wall, a marvelous picture of a purple, winged pony under a rainbow.

SALLY RAN TOWARD
the big stone gate. Right now that gate seemed like the gateway to Hell itself, but she was getting
out
, she was escaping, she was breaking free!
Come on, girl, get through that thing!

Khull’s men raced through the hedges and down an obscure pathway toward the highway to head her off. So far they hadn’t been seen by any conferees, but that was due more to luck than caution.

“THE WOMAN!” CRIED
the spirits, their attention diverted from the
battle overhead to the fleeing figure on the ground. That diversion cost many of them their presence in this world. The angels were there, swords flashing, and no one could stop Sally Roe.

SHE REACHED THE
gate. There was no invisible barrier, no burly thug to stop her, no dirty hands grabbing. She passed through it like a bird out of a cage, her heart soaring.
O Lord God, my Savior Jesus, will You save me? Are You running with me now?

She crossed the highway and ducked into the forest on the other side. First she would get some distance behind her, then perhaps double back to the village, get a ride, hike out, whatever.
Just stay alive, Sally, just stay alive! Hang on!

KHULL’S MEN SAW
her cross the highway. They fanned out. The demons of Broken Birch stayed close to the ground and followed them, goading them on, filling their blackened minds with thoughts of blood and murder.

THE CLOUD OF
spirits began to change shape. The base began to shift sideways, crawling up the mountainside, spreading a mantle over the path of that solitary, fleeing figure.

TAL SHOUTED TO
his commanders, “Keep her covered, but let them follow!”

They understood, and backed away before the advancing demonic hordes.

The thick mantle over the Summit Institute began to pull away, leaving it open and vulnerable.

DEMONICALLY SPEAKING, LIFECIRCLE
was a desolate ruin, the elementary school had fallen to the enemy, and now as the wilting, bleeding leftovers from those two defeats fled to the homes and businesses
of the Bacon’s Corner school board, they discovered Terga, their mighty prince, all by himself, flying in crazy circles over the town, screaming in rage.

“Cowards!” he shrieked. “Deserters! Come back and stand!”

The demon lords under his command were nowhere to be seen, but had fled before the advancing flood of heavenly armies. The Oriental, Signa, was right at Terga’s heels. Terga was as good as finished and presently out of his mind.

MOTA HAD ALREADY
led a powerful contingent of warriors on a bold sweep through the home of board chairwoman Betty Hanover, routing the ruling demons of that household and leaving Mrs. Hanover feeling unsure of herself—especially now, when a federal postal agent was on the phone.

“Just trying to track down some information,” he said. “We understand your elementary school was using a curriculum written by the woman in question, a Sally Beth Roe.”

“Uh . . . well, I don’t know anything about that.”

“We understand that Sally Roe lived right in your area.”

“Really?” Betty tried to sound surprised, but never was much of an actor.

“Well, we’re just trying to find her. We have to follow up on a complaint.”

“Complaint?”

“Mail tampering, for one thing.”

“Well . . . you might try talking to Claire Johanson . . .”

“Already did. She said to call you.”

“She—” Betty buttoned her lip, but cursed Claire up one side and down the other in her mind.

“Hold on,” said the agent. “I’ve got the name of the curriculum right here . . . Yeah . . .
Finding the Real Me.
Ring any bells?”

“The Omega Center!”

“Beg your pardon?”

“The Omega Center for Educational Studies in Fairwood, Massachusetts! They’re the publishers of that curriculum! They’d know the author, I’m sure. We don’t know anything about the author. All we did
was buy the curriculum from Omega. They’re the ones you should talk to. We don’t know anything.”

“All right. Do you have their number, address, all that good stuff?”

“Just hold on.”

She gave him the information and hung up the phone, unable to stop shaking.

The phone rang again. It was school board member John Kendall. “Betty, I’m calling to warn you—”

“You’re too late,” she told him.