Sacred Flesh (15 page)

“Well, sleepy head there you are. Turnip! He’s waking up!”

He silently gazes up at the mountain man figure standing over him dressed in a red flannel shirt and blue jean overalls, his large round face covered with a dark stringy beard and long greasy hair.

“How ya’ feeling?” he smiles revealing a missing yellow tooth in front. Still too startled to speak his eyes dart to the plump woman entering the room carrying a large mug.

“Rise and shine. Here, sit up I made you some herb tea,” she says putting down a large mug on the small table next to the couch.

Mountain man lends over to put a pillow behind him helping him sit up. “Turnip here makes a swell cup of tea, fix ya’ right up it will, though I like mine with a little peppermint schnapps,” he laughs: again the yellow smile.

“Where—?” he says attempting to focus.

“I keep my stash out in the van you know case the cops show up. Went out to snag a little refill and there you are,” he tells him.

“Here, drink up,” she raises the mug to his lips.

“You must’ve tied on a good one to tear up your leg like that.”

“Yeah,” he drinks a sip thinking it’s not too bad.

“The church down the alley, you know much about them?” he asks his hosts.

“Dem strangers to us. Don’t never see many come and go over there but daze strangers and Turnip and me don’t mess none with strangers,” mountain man says.

“Oh,” he says.

“You like the tea?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Good, I put a bandage on your leg you should be okay. I figure it a'hurtin you a good deal so I put a little something in the tea to help you sleep some, take the edge off,” she says.

“What?” His eyes bulge open. The distance yet very real thought of dying here enters the back of his mind, resting there waiting for some bit of information to either confirm or deny the grim possibility.

“Don’t worry, you rest some then we’ll give you a lift back to where you need to get to,” she says.

“Meanwhile, Ol’Rufus here will keep you good company,” he says pointing to the large black Newfoundland dog curled up in the corner. The animal upon hearing his name rises up and walks over to him sniffing his hand on the couch.

This is just great he think as the two walk out of the room. Beginning to feel drowsy he looks closer at the dog noticing its large black collar, suddenly, frantically he reaches into his pocket. Yes, it’s still there.

With the sample in his pocket and the safe now empty he grabs his briefcase and heads downstairs to his car. Then the airport, and soon the deposit will be in his Swiss bank account. Should I say goodbye to Haggai, he wonders to himself, that poor idiot I really hung everything on him. They really brought that story I fed them. It’ll be awhile before they discover I’m missing with this sample, even though it is meaningless but so what? Rome won’t know the difference. Because I’ve faked the results, they think they’re getting the sacred sample. I could care less what they do with it, clone a child call him the son of Christ who cares! I’ll grow old in luxury and by the time the child is grown I’ll either be senile or dead. It’ll be their problem, let them fight it out: Rome, the
Elite
, and Dunbar whoever, with Rome’s protection the
Elite
will never find me. I’m as good as gold. He throws his briefcase into the backseat of his car and begins the drive to the airport.

“He’s gone!” Cosward says running into the
Elite
office.

“What?” Logo asks

“Glenn, our Master
Elite
is missing,” he tells him.

“Kidnapped?” Clovis asks with a puzzled look on his face.

“No, the safe’s empty he took the other samples,” Cosward says.

“Why? They’re ordinary human flesh. Dunbar still has the sacred sample,” Clovis says.

“Yeah, Glenn knows that so why did he take them unless he’s trying to pass them off as the real deal,” Logo says.

“The calls to Rome you idiots, they weren’t made by Haggai but by Glenn! He’s the one who was taking to Rome. He sold us out,” Clovis says.

“No, he didn’t. The samples he took are ordinary,” Cosward says.

“But Rome wouldn’t know that. Glenn could have faked the results and sold them a doctored sample. If Rome buys it they’ll think they have the sacred sample and begin impregnation,” Logo says.

“Haggai was right, and we just imprisoned our rightful master
Elite
for treason,” Clovis says.

“I bet he’s going to be pissed,” Cosward says.

“No, he’s not,” Solor says entering the office.

“Why do you say that?”Logo asks.

“Because he’s dead.”

“You wouldn’t believe it,” the One Who Turns says having returned to the apartment.

“I thought you said you could BS your way out of any problem,” Jim says.

“I didn’t count on running into Lily.”

“Who’s Lily?”

“An unbalanced demented wretch, we had a little thing once. She’s crazy. She’s worked for the
Elite
; her father was one of us,” the one who turns says while sitting down.

“Oh the wrath of jilted love,” Jim laughs.

“Funny.”

“Is that blood?”

“The bullet nicked my thigh. You don’t want to know where she was aiming.”

“Too small of a target?”

“Again, very funny, I dropped her off at the ER parking lot. I’m sure they won’t mind another half naked unconscious woman. I had to knock her out she was shooting at me!”

“No one noticed you two in the
Elite
office?”

“Nah, the place was dead. We used to have good security but now, forget it.”

“And the third sample?” Jim asks.

“Right here,” he holds up the brown metal box.

“Ah,” Jim takes it and holds it up. “The third and potentially sacred sample, the one that everyone wants so very badly, the one piece of flesh that may in fact be His: from the Savior Himself.”

“And there’s this one too, the first sample.” The One Who Turns says as he reaches into his bag. “The one that we’ll give back to them and say it’s the one they’ve been chasing you for.”

“Ordinary flesh nothing special,” Jim says. “Speaking of which, your old buddies from the
Elite
called my cell. They want to do a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” He asks.

“They have a hostage, a woman they want to exchange for the sample.”

“They think you still have the second sample which they mistakenly believe to be sacred.”

“Our plan is to give them the first meaningless sample. They won’t know the difference,” Jim says.

“Then we destroy the third. But what happens if we don’t agree to the deal?” The One Who Turns asks.

“Then they kill her.”

I can walk, at least I can walk, the words play over in his head while leaving the house. I’ll come back for the dog and the key I hid in his collar if I need to.

“You know these people?” Mountain Man says as they walk down the sidewalk.

“Not really, I just need to see something then you can take me back to my apartment.”

“That’s fine, I ain’t got a whole lot to do anyway. I’m on disability: bad back. The government pays me to stay home so I do though I’ve been thinking of starting up my own business, woodworking, making duck decoys. You know the economy gets bad folks be out hunting their own food and then they needing decoys, that’s what I figure anyway,” he says.

They continue walking, he with a slight limp. “Yeah, okay good luck on that. If I need a duck decoy sometime you’ll be the first person I think of. Oh, thanks for letting me borrow your coat,” he says in reference to the large black overcoat two sizes too large draped around him.

“No problem bud, ya could probably get that blood outa yours, Turnip knows how to do stuff like that.”

“Hang on,” he says holding out his arm upon seeing the façade of the red brick church.

“You know, I don’t think this is really a church. They never have services here.”

“Get down.”

“What? You okay? You sure that stuff Turnip gave you is worn off?”

“I’m fine. I slept seventeen hours didn’t I?”

“You hungry? They’s a burger place up a ways I’m getting the munchies.”

“Down! Get down!” Go Man says as they squat behind a row of unkempt half dead bushes.

“It’s kinda dark out here. What the heck you looking for anyway?” he asks.

“That,” he says as three figures walk out of a side door.

“You know them people?”

“Just the woman.”

“Dead?” Logo asks with a stunned look on his face.

“Yep, found him in his cell dead as a door nail,” Solor says.

“I told you he had the runs,” Cosward adds.

“What a way to go,” Clovis says.

“Glenn is responsible for Haggai’s death. He would never been in there if Glenn hadn’t mislead us,” Logo says.

“We must revenge Haggai’s death by wrecking vengeance upon Glenn!” Cosward says.

“Yes, but we must find him first,” Logo tells him.

“Easy. Where else would he go?” Clovis says.

“Rome, the Vatican to sell the samples,” Solor says.

“Okay, send a crew to Rome, find Glenn and take care of him,” Logo says.

“What about the samples?”Clovis asks.

“I could care less about those samples they’re meaningless. Dunbar has the Sacred one,” Logo says.

“About him,” Solor says.

“Yes?” Logo asks.

“We’ve set up a deal. We’re trading the woman downstairs for the second sample,” Solor tells him.

“A trade?” Logo asks.

“Yes, and he says he’s going to do it. It’s set up for tomorrow at 2pm on 7th street,” Solor says.

“Excellent, then we will finally have the sacred sample,” Logo says.

“And the doctor has arrived from Boston. He will begin impregnation as soon as we bring him the sample,” Clovis adds.

“What about our sample woman?” Cosward asks.

“She is ready and waiting,” Solor says.

“Good, then it looks like the stage is finally set,” Clovis says.

“This time tomorrow my brothers impregnation shall begin. The time of the 27th generation will be illuminated!” Logo says.

“Let’s have a drink,” Cosward says.

“Let’s have two or three of them! This is great news,” Clovis says.

“One thing though, about our hostage woman and Dunbar,” Logo says.

“What?” Solor asks.

“After the deal is done have someone follow them,” Logo tells them.

“Why?” Solor asks.

“We can’t let them have the opportunity to talk. And with her being an FBI agent they’ll be down our throats in a second. It is time for the glory of the 27th generation to be realized not to be setting in a federal prison,” Logo says.

“You’re right,” Clovis says

“Follow them and when you have a clear shot blow their freaking heads off, especially Dunbar’s!” Logo tells them.

“Consider it done,” they all raise their drinking glasses.

“That went better than I expected,” Jim says standing in the abandon warehouse, the place they were told they would find Jill after they dropped off the sample.

“I can’t believe they let me go, I thought for sure they were going to kill me” Jill says looking pretty calm and together for someone who was just facing certain death.

“We did the exchange. They have the first sample now but we’ve lied to them. They think it’s the sacred sample,” the One Who Turns says filling Jill in on the details.

“They will begin impregnation,” she tells him.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not His. They have no claim to anything Sacred,” he answers.

“So where is the sacred sample?” she asks.

“We’ve destroyed it,” the One Who Turns says. “It is in the best interest of everyone.”

“Probably,” Jim adds.

“Was it His?” She asks.

“I didn’t test it, didn’t really want to know. The
Elite
need to focus on the message that Christ brought to Earth, not on scientific data concerning DNA,” the One Who Turns says.

“I’m surprised they didn’t kill us all,” Jim says.

“I wouldn’t be so sure they’re not planning on it,” Jill says.

“What?” They both ask.

“The
Elite
are tricky you really think they’re going to let us walk away from all this?” Jill tells them.

“Why not? They finally have what they want,” Jim says.

“We should get out of here,” the One Who Turns says.

“Yes, I have to call in. The FBI wants to talk with the
Elite
senior members,” Jill says.