The Shepherd (38 page)

“Like terrorists.”

Unfazed by the comment, the Sheriff said, “Exactly. This is to help ensure the safety of the group and their families. As you can imagine, we do make enemies from time to time. One Shepherd and his support team comprise these cell groups. That’s where you come in. Allen’s been a Shepherd for many years now. It’s time for him to pass the torch. He’s going to settle down and annoy his wife and kids for a while. You’re here to take over his team.”

“I’m surprised you’re allowed to have a family.”

“Actually, it’s encouraged. Having the support of a family helps us to remember why we do what we do. Keeps us sane.”

Marcus shook his head and asked, “Why me? Why not Andrew or Lewis Foster or anyone else but me?”

The Sheriff cast a deep, penetrating gaze. “Because it’s your destiny. It’s who you are. It’s who you were born to be. As for the others you mentioned, Andrew is Allen’s right hand man, and quite frankly, he knows his destiny and his place. He’s happy where he is. As for Lewis…”

The Sheriff hesitated, and tears formed. “Lewis was like a son to me, and he desperately wanted to be a Shepherd. I never had the heart to tell him why, but he wasn’t the right kind of man. Lewis loved this work. He loved nothing more than to take down the bad guys and help people, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. He took great joy in the removal of every evil person that we hunted. But, to be perfectly honest, that’s not the kind of man who makes a Shepherd.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not looking for someone to take joy in this job. I’m looking for someone who is going to be haunted by what we do. I’m looking for a man who will agonize and question and see the faces of every person he has killed every time he closes his eyes. I’m looking for someone who is going to wonder whether what he is doing is right and whether his creator condones his actions. But the man I’m looking for presses forward and still does the job. Because deep in his heart, he knows what he’s doing is right and just. That’s who I’ve been searching for. When that man pulls the trigger, he’ll be sure. And that’s why I chose you, Marcus. Not because you killed Mavros, but because of the way taking his life changed you. The way the act haunted you.”

Marcus raised two fingers to the bridge of his nose and squeezed. His headache was getting worse. A few moments of silence passed. “What about Ackerman? Why bring him into this?”

A look of sorrow fell upon the Sheriff, and he averted his gaze. “Ackerman was definitely not supposed to get free, but…I was sloppy and made a mistake. I’m just going to have to live with that. Allen warned me, but I felt that Ackerman was a necessary part of your recruitment. We caught him in Colorado. He killed a couple of cops there and then shot up a diner. Allen, Andrew, and Lewis tracked him to Maureen Hill’s home. They shot him with a tranquilizer gun from a distance. Looking back, we should have killed him on the spot. The plan was always to stage a murder scene using a cadaver and then have you stumble upon the killer. Ackerman provided those elements with Maureen Hill’s murder. We had been tracking him for a long time. The timing actually forced us to escalate things. That’s why Maggie took you to see Maureen on your first date. We—”

“But why did you need a real killer in the first place? Wouldn’t it have been much safer to just have someone play a part?”

The Sheriff shook his head. “You would’ve known. It wouldn’t have served our purpose. You can’t just fake being a man like Ackerman. The plan was to capture you when you stumbled onto the murder scene and tie both of you up in the same room. You needed to be confronted with the face of evil. You needed to stare into the darkness of his soul and see the kind of man that we hunt. A man like Ackerman can’t be rehabilitated or reasoned with. He was an animal. It might not have been his fault and a part of me feels for the man, but ultimately, he was a killer and would have continued to hurt innocent people until someone stopped him. Letting him roam free or even putting him in prison, is like…throwing a great white into a pool full of kids.”

“Ackerman saved us. He actually seemed to be repentant. When we were at the school in Asherton, he asked me about forgiveness. If he really was redeemed at the very end of his life, killing him before would have denied him that and condemned his soul. We don’t have the right.”

“And how many people had to die for him to find his way? What about their souls? Does he have the right?”

“He could have been captured and locked away in a cell where he couldn’t hurt anyone. Then, he would have had his whole life to think about all that he’d done.”

“I used to have a friend who worked at this maximum security prison. He told me a story about this man who had killed multiple people. One day, they were serving eggs, and this killer complained that his eggs were runny. The server, of course, asked him who he thought he was and basically told him to sit down and shut up. The killer sat his tray to the side and then kicked the server in the throat. The man died almost instantly—all over some runny eggs. Killer didn’t care. He was already serving multiple life sentences. And our tax dollars clothe, shelter, and feed that monster.”

The Sheriff leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “I understand where you’re coming from, but we play a simple game of mathematics, kid. We bring one death to a murderer in order to save the lives of the killer’s many potential victims. It’s not perfect, but it’s the only way to truly protect the innocent.”

Marcus sighed. “Why play this game in the first place? Why not just have the conversation we’re havin’ now?”

“This has been no game, kid. You could think of it more as an entrance exam, but honestly, I’ve known all along that you were the man that I was looking for. All of this has been more for you to discover that for yourself. We’ve tried and failed in the past doing as you said. The men we recruited weren’t prepared for the demons they would face—inside and outside. They would hesitate. People died. And there was no amount of simulation that could prepare them. That’s when we devised this method of recruitment. We threw you into a situation that forced you to confront your abilities and your destiny.

“That’s why I chose an assassination plot. I wanted to put you in a position where you had to face saving the life of another person in power that was potentially a murderer. I felt that wrestling with those implications would force you to deal with your feelings about killing Mavros—bring it right to the forefront of your mind. We had a whole intricate plan worked out where you would try to stop me in San Antonio, but with Ackerman on the loose and people dying, I had Andrew cut our little drama short. We were going to bring you in after we completed the final act and then go after Ackerman together, but you bolted from the gravesite and went after him on your own. Which I suppose proves that you’re ready, but you wouldn’t have been before confronting who you are. Before you can move forward and discover what lies ahead, you have to come to terms with the road behind you.”

“Come to terms with the road behind me? I’ve killed in cold blood. How am I supposed to come to terms with that? How can you expect me to work for you doing more of the same? Is that really my destiny…to be a killer?”

The Sheriff shrugged. “I’m sorry, kid. Nothing is black and white. If you’re looking for a perfect world, you got off on the wrong exit. This world is filled with shades of gray, and every decision is a double-edged sword for which both sides can be argued. More often than not, there is no right choice, just the lesser of two evils. I don’t have all the answers. I wish I did. I wish that I could quote some scripture or words of wisdom that would help you reconcile all this, but I can’t. All I can say is that, in the end, you have to look deep inside yourself. Deep down in your soul, you know whether the things you’ve done are right or wrong.”

“Let me ask you this,” the Sheriff said softly as he leaned in close. “Do you really feel guilty for killing Mavros? Is that what haunts you? Or is it the fact that you took another human being’s life but didn’t feel guilty at all?”

Marcus held the Sheriff’s gaze for a few seconds but then looked away. His eyes stung with tears.

“It scared you, didn’t it? It scared you because it made you wonder what separated a man like you from a man like Ackerman. It made you question what you were truly capable of. That’s the real secret from your past that’s been haunting you, isn’t it?”

Marcus lowered his head and closed his eyes, trying to hold the tears inside. “I should have felt something. I should have felt guilt and remorse and a thousand other emotions that a normal person would feel after killing someone, but I didn’t. I didn’t feel anything. Ackerman commented that he could kill Maggie as easily as flipping a light switch. Those words stuck with me. Because that’s as easy as it was. I just raised the gun and turned out his light.” The tears broke free and rolled down his face. “You’re right. Ever since that night in New York, I’ve been wondering how thin the line is between me and someone like Ackerman. When he said those words, I found out exactly how thin that line is. And yes…it scares me.”

The Sheriff’s eyes shone with warmth and understanding. “I may not have all the answers, kid, but I know one thing for certain. You are nothing like Ackerman. The two of you are at completely opposite ends of the spectrum. Maybe the reason that you didn’t feel guilty about Mavros is because you knew in your heart that it was the right thing to do? You protected more than just the girl in the car that night. You protected every victim that would have come after her. Evil will flourish if there are no good men to stand against it, and that’s what would have happened with Mavros. He would have continued to prey on the innocent until someone had the courage to do what was right and stand against him—even if that meant standing alone.”

The Sheriff stood and placed a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “You’ve got all the time you need to think about my offer. But in my opinion, people can be categorized into three groups. You are either a shepherd, a wolf, or one of the flock. I can say with absolute certainty that you are not one of the wolves. Now, you have to decide whether you are a protector and a shepherd… or are you just one of the flock?”

~~*~~

The Director left Marcus to his thoughts and joined the others. Allen walked up and said, “How’s he taking it?”

“Pretty well, considering the situation.”

“Do you think he’ll accept?”

“It’s too early to say for sure, but I believe that he will.”

“Good. I’m getting too old for this.” Allen hesitated, thrummed his fingers against his glass, and ran a hand through his gray-white hair. “Are you going to tell Marcus about…the connection between himself and Ackerman?”

“No.”

“You don’t think he needs to know the truth?”

“Ackerman’s dead. Marcus never needs to know.”

The Dempsey brothers had not been mistreated as children. They didn’t have a father who molested them or a mother who didn’t love them. On the contrary, their parents were loving, caring providers. Their father had been a carpenter and their mother a housewife. The boys went to parks and played Frisbee with their dog, Bobby. They went on family vacations with destinations comprised of national landmarks and roadside tourist traps. They were normal. They were just like everyone else.

Andy Dempsey, the younger of the two boys, imagined that was why it was such a shock to everyone when he and his big brother, Michael, murdered their parents and burnt down their ancestral home. He liked to shock people. And people always seemed to be so astonished right before they died, as if they thought they would live forever.

He reached out and pulled a Baby Ruth from the shelf. He tore open the wrapper and bit off a large chunk. He didn’t look up to see if the convenience store attendant had given him a dirty look or called the cops. He didn’t have to. The attendant and the only other patron were tied up on the floor in the back room. He knew that fact because he and his brother had put them there.

He watched Michael empty the contents of the cash register into a paper sack. It wasn’t much money, but that’s not why they did this. They did it for the thrill. It was fun being the bad guys.

“We’re done here,” Michael said. “Let’s clean up.”

Andy smiled.
Time to have some fun
.

The two brothers entered the back room through a door marked,
Employees Only
. Inside the room, two people knelt with their hands behind their backs.

“Is there more money hidden around here somewhere?” Michael said to the attendant.

“No,” the man said with a sob. “You’ve got everything. You don’t have to hurt anyone.”

Andy smiled at the man’s comments, but Michael was expressionless. “That poses a problem, friend,” Michael said. “You’ve seen our faces, and that’s just unacceptable.”

“I guess we should have worn those masks,” Andy said.

The brothers chuckled together.

Michael’s face turned back to stone as he peered down at the helpless attendant. “Guess we’ll just have to kill them.”

The attendant started to speak, but Michael silenced him. The man fell dead to the tile floor, a pool of crimson spreading around him and a smoking hole in his forehead.

The woman, a beautiful blonde in a red t-shirt and jeans, remained on her knees with her eyes clenched together. She had apparently decided that she would face her inevitable death where she was.

Michael pointed the gun at her face.

“Wait,” Andy said just before Michael pulled the trigger.

“What is it, little brother?”

“I wanna keep her,” he said. “We can have some fun with her later when we’ve got time to do it right.”

Michael shook his head and sighed. “Alright, little brother, but if you’re gonna have a pet, then she’s your responsibility. I don’t wanna hear a peep out of her.”

He smiled like a little boy on Christmas morning. “I promise. I’ll take care of her. She won’t be a problem.”

“She had better not be. If at any point I decide that she is, then I’m gonna splatter her brains along the side of the road and let the buzzards give her a proper burial.”