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Authors: Tim Miller

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BOOK: The Hand of God
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“Come with you for what?”  I did my best to sound indignant and confused. The confused part wasn’t too tough to pull off.

“Look.  You can come with me and answer a few questions, or I can handcuff you and take you with me.” 

It was already late.  I didn’t want to drag this out any longer than I had to.  He had to have something good if he was threatening to handcuff me.  Either that, or it was a total bluff.  Of course, if he had anything all that good he would have just arrested me on the spot.  I didn’t want to make a scene or seem anything other than the upstanding citizen I have always presented myself to be, so I went along with him.  We drove to the station in downtown San Antonio where he took me to a small interview room.  He left me there to sit for what felt like forever.  There was nothing in the room except a small table, two chairs and a camera mounted in the corner.  Finally Stanton came in and sat down across from me.

“Okay, Pastor Charlie.” He said, and then paused.  In the light, he appeared older than when he was at my apartment.  I saw there were flecks of gray in his hair that I didn’t notice before.

“That’s me.  So what’s going on?”

“One of Roger’s neighbors saw you and him standing by your Tahoe talking that night.   They said they looked away for a minute and when they looked back out the window, you were closing the back of your Tahoe and leaving.  You have anything to say to that?  You previously told officers that you hadn’t seen him.”

“No sir.  I’m not sure what this person is talking about.”

“Where were you that Sunday night?  We know you weren’t at church.”

“I was home.  I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Really?  Your neighbor said your Tahoe wasn’t there most of the night.”

“Well, she would be wrong.”

“Would she now?  Did anyone see you at home?  Anyone to back up your story?”

“No, since I live alone.”

“So you have no alibi?”

“Well no, I guess not.  I don’t usually have the need to verify my whereabouts or prove that I wasn’t somewhere other than where I actually was.”  I might be a preacher, but I had a little knowledge of how the justice system worked.  They would need more than a shaky witness statement and my lack of an alibi to charge me with anything.  This detective was getting on my nerves.  I had to resist the urge to dig my hand into his skull to see what might be lurking in that brain of his.  Probably not the best move in a police station. 

“Okay Charlie, so who might his neighbor have seen?”

“I don’t know, since I wasn’t there.”

“Yeah, you said that.  That’s okay.  While we’ve been sitting here, my colleagues have gotten a search warrant for your Tahoe.” Stanton smirked as he explained, as if he thought he had me.  I guess the witness was enough for a warrant, at least.  I knew they wouldn’t find anything, though.

“So anything you’d like to tell me Pastor?  Anything we might find?”  He asked.

“I told you, I wasn’t there.  I was home.  Roger was a friend.  What do you people think I did?”

“I don’t know pastor.  Not very godly of you, if you ask me.  I’m Catholic so we have some different rules.  You’re what, like a Pentecostal?  Don’t you all play with snakes or something?”

Now he was trying to be cute.

“No, detective.  No snake handling or poison drinking or any of that nonsense.”

“How about that Bishop guy?  The one they talk about on TV?  I heard he can raise dead people.”

“Well maybe you should talk to him.  Maybe he can conjure Roger for you.”

The sarcastic smile disappeared as he leaned across the table.

“You think you’re pretty smart don’t you?  I know you are up to something.  You might have your congregation fooled, but I can tell something isn’t right with you.”

“The only thing I’m up to is God’s work, detective.”

He sat down and took a deep breath.

“No you’re not.  I’m going to keep an eye on you.”

“You’re welcome to.  If I’m not under arrest, I need to get some sleep.  It’s getting late.”

“I can have an officer take you home,” he said.

“That’s okay.  I’ll take a cab.”

 

Chapter 28

 

The cab dropped me off at my apartment around one o’clock in the morning.  My Tahoe was still parked where I had left it.  I looked through it, trying to see if the cops had messed anything up.  There were some fast food wrappers on the ground outside of it, where stuff had spilled out.  There was no way they’d found anything useful.  I had lined the back of the Tahoe with plastic before I’d placed Roger in.  It was just a matter of wrapping it around him and taking him out of the Tahoe, along with any possible evidence.  I started to question God’s wisdom in having me take a target so close.  But then I remembered God wasn’t behind it at all.

Having the police on my back was only going to complicate matters.  I would need to be extra careful, especially with the Bishop and his goons.  Between the Bishop, David Davidson, and now the cops, it would be a miracle if I ever killed again for fun.  I still couldn’t figure out how my life had gotten so complicated.  It was exhausting to think about, and I needed sleep so I headed into my apartment.

I opened the door, stepping inside to find Lee sitting on my couch.  Sometimes I could swear it just never stopped. 

“Lee, what a nice surprise,” I said, trying to hide my sarcasm.  “What brings you here at this hour?”  As I got closer, I saw he didn’t look well.  He had about three days’ worth of stubble on his face, his hair was a mess and clothing looked like he’d slept in it. 

“Something’s happening to me Pastor Charlie.  Something terrible.  I really need your help.”

I didn’t like the sound of this.  I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone sit and listen to one of Lee’s ramblings of a perceived problem.  He probably peeked at a Victoria’s Secret ad or something and now he was punishing himself.  I wasn’t sure how he got inside my apartment, but at this point didn’t really care.  

“Well what’s going on Lee?”  I pulled up a chair and sat across from him.  “What’s bothering you?”

“There’s something dark here, Pastor Charlie.  Something horrible has come to our town, to our church.  I figured you were the only one I could talk to.”

I wished he would just spit it out, but that’s not how Lee operated.

“So what is it Lee?  I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s really late.”

He stood up and stumbled over to table near the kitchen.  He was holding his side the whole time.

“I didn’t want to come over here, but it was time I did something.”

“Did something about what?”

“About your interference with God’s work!  You are an abomination!”  His voice got deeper as he shouted. Moving toward me, he grew several inches taller as his face and body became a distorted, hideous mountain of rage.  His forehead bulged and mouth opened to expose shark like teeth.  His voice let out a guttural roar as he lunged at me.  His hands grew long, sharp claws, one of which scratched the side of my face.  Warm blood ran down my cheek as I tried to pull away.  The attack, and his transformation, caught me off guard.  I fell flat on my back.  Looking up at him, he didn’t look like Lee, or any other creature I had ever seen. 

I grabbed the chair and swung it at the beast.  The chair shattered over its head, but had no effect.  The thing grabbed my arm with its long claws as I kicked at its legs, then stomach.  I made solid contact with its midsection but it was too solid.  I didn’t want to risk trying my brain thing on it.  It would likely chomp my hand off if I tried.  One of my kicks managed to loosen its grip enough for me to pull free. 

I ran into the bedroom where I had a wooden cross hanging on my wall.  Figuring I had nothing else to lose, I grabbed the cross and pressed it into its chest as it ran up behind me. It pulled the cross away and crushed it to pieces.  At that point, I went for the window; thankfully I lived on the first floor. 

I pulled the window open and dove out head first.  Before I was over halfway through, the thing grabbed my ankle and pulled me back in.  I could see outside, there was no one around at all.  Go figure, no cops when I needed them.  Too bad they didn’t put me under surveillance.  I spun around again, but this time its huge hand struck me on the side of my face again, tearing more flesh open.  Then it hit me over and over along the side of the head.  I became dizzier with each blow.  The room began to fade as I finally got to sleep.

 

Chapter 29

 

I came to several hours later, lying on a dirty floor.  There was a nasty smell in the air as I tried to make out where I was.  My head was pounding and vision was a bit blurry.  As it cleared up, my surroundings became more familiar.  I was in a chapel, my chapel.  Last thing I could remember was Lee coming over to my apartment, and then turning into some weird thing that attacked me.  I wasn’t sure if that part had been a dream or what.  Maybe the cops slipped me something, but that wouldn’t explain how I ended up at the chapel. 

I stood slowly and noticed I was covered in blood.  The only thing I had on was my dress pants, and they were soaked.  I didn’t have any serious wounds, so it took me a minute to realize where it came from.  Looking around, I saw Lee was hanging from the cross.  He was stripped to his underwear and his stomach had been cut wide open.  His insides were in a pile on the floor around him.  Blood was splattered all along the walls and surrounding floor.  I was never that messy when I did my work.

Before I could take it all in, I heard sirens in the distance.  They were getting closer.  The Bishop was setting me up.  I don’t know why he didn’t just kill me.  Disgracing me would have a much more dramatic effect, plus would win my church over to him for sure.  Fortunately I had planned for such an emergency.  There was a hidden panel in the floor where I kept a metal box.  In that box was dynamite, fuses and gasoline in case there was ever a time I had to torch the place in a hurry.  This was that time.

I found the panel and flipped it open; locating the box I opened it and took out three bundles of dynamite and the fuses.  I attached them and placed them around the chapel.  Once that was complete, I grabbed the gasoline and doused everything in the chapel.  The place reeked of rotting flesh, blood, organs and now gasoline.  I went back to the metal box to grab the matches, but there were none in there.  The sirens were getting louder and louder as they approached.  I looked all around the floor and surrounding area in case I dropped them, shaking my head. I couldn’t believe it: I planned for all this and didn’t think to leave any matches? 

The sirens stopped suddenly.  I knew that meant they were getting closer and wanted to approach silently.  I had to blow the place; it couldn’t all end like this.  The Texas justice system fried people like potatoes.  Preacher or not, I would be toast if I got caught.  There were some shelves along the back wall.  I dug through boxes on the shelves, sorting through trash, tools and finally found an old book of matches.   I ran outside and tried to light one of them, but the first few failed to light at all.  The third did light, so I quickly knelt down and lit the fuse.  Once I was sure it was lit, I turned and ran into the woods.

The sticks and rocks on the ground tore into my feet as I ran, but I had no choice.  After almost a minute I heard the explosion.  I could see the chapel go up in a ball of flames.  Hopefully no evidence of me would be left.  I didn’t know if any police were injured in the blast, but didn’t have time to worry about it.  I still had to do something about the blood I was covered in.  First thing was getting away.  There were flashlights in the distance, but I had a good head start on them.  I ran deeper into the woods, trying not to make too much noise in the process.  I had never been in this part of the wood, but had to keep going.

After almost twenty minutes, I heard a helicopter in the distance.  I hoped that wasn’t for me, but not sure how they’d find me through the darkness and trees.  I had to stop and catch my breath.  For some reason, the helicopter was not coming my direction at all.  The flashlights were not anywhere behind me either.  Perhaps they thought I died in the explosion.  The Bishop was behind all this, there was no doubt.  He’d used Lee to set me up, but I have no idea what that thing was Lee turned into.  Had Lee been like that all along, or did the Bishop do that to him?  I had a feeling it was the latter. 

BOOK: The Hand of God
12.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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