The Tears of Nero (The Halo Group Book 1) (13 page)

“So this boils down to greed?” Edward said.  “You guys aren’t content with the toys you have in your toybox.  You want the toys in your buddy’s toybox too.”

“It’s not about material possessions,” Franklin explained.  “It’s about making our mark in history.  It‘s about achieving status.” 

“So what’s all this talk about the end of the world?” Edward asked.  “What good is making your mark on a world that gets destroyed by fire?”

Franklin took a drink from a bottle of water.  “That’s Lindell’s own personal quest.  As a child, he was abused by a father who hid behind the scripture.  The man drank regularly, beat Hal on a daily basis, and yet proclaimed God’s love to any and all who would hear it.”

“So from the beginning Lindell associated God’s love with pain,” Edward said.

“Exactly.  I think that’s why the bottle caps from Kelly‘s challenge are significant.  Liquor fueled his father’s rages.”

“That makes sense,” Henry conceded.  “What doesn’t make sense is what Lindell wants.  We've all known him at some point in our lives.  But Edward, Sadie, and I haven't had any contact with him for years.  He's a different person than the one we knew.  You're the one who has been in contact with him the most recently.  What is all of this about?”

Franklin sighed.  “That’s the difficult part to explain.  One of the main reasons I was kicked out of the group was an argument he and I had over the nature of God.  Lindell, given his childhood, is on an eternal quest to understand why God would allow him to grow up in such a traumatic environment.”

“Why do bad things happen to good people?” Edward said.

“Lindell wanted to take it one step further.  He wanted to rebel against God in retaliation for all the pain he had to suffer.  He wants Christians to suffer.  He wants to wage his own personal attack on God.”

“The death of millions,” Edward said.  “Morningstar.”

“That doesn't really go along with his televangelist persona,” Henry pointed out.

Franklin nodded.  “No, it doesn't.  Which brings up the next point about our friendly neighborhood cultist.”

“Enlighten us,” Sadie asked.   

“Toward the end of our relationship, I think Lindell’s psyche began to fracture, and the duality of his nature became a strain he couldn’t bear.  God’s love by nature and definition is good.  Lindell knew this but he also associated it with an overbearing monster of a father who beat him with an extension cord while reciting verses from the Book of Revelation.”

“The Nero persona would make sense,” Henry said.  “Nero blamed many of his problems on Christians and used them as scapegoats.”

“That personality would continually be at odds with the devout, praying Lindell persona the world sees on television every Sunday morning.”

“So in a sense he’s at war with himself?”

Franklin finished his water and squashed the plastic bottle.  “At war with himself and with us.  In his mind he thinks we’re to blame for the way he feels.”

“And what part do we play?” Edward asked.

Franklin propped his chin on his hands.  “He wants us to help him get revenge on the Christians in retaliation for what he suffered at the hands of his father so long ago.  Of course, that’s not even the worst part?”

“There’s something worse?” Sadie asked. 

Franklin nodded.  “Lindell’s bad enough, but there are people on this island who believe and support him.”

Chapter 20

Nobody knew what to think when Franklin started drawing in the sand.  With a sharp stick, he traced symbols and wrote words from languages none of them recognized. 

“Can I ask what you’re doing?” Henry said.  “If you’re trying to get us rescued, maybe SOS would be better than all that gobbledygook.”

Franklin waved the idea away.  “I’m trying to get my bluff in and save our lives.  I’m leaving Lindell a message.”

“What’s it say?” Sadie asked.

“These symbols are the foundation of our order.  One of the tenets of organization is to ‘Proceed With Caution in the Absence of Wisdom.’  That’s what I’ve written, hoping it will cause him to question his motivations here and delay any further actions until daybreak.  That should get his attention.  Then he’ll read this.”

“God is merciful,” the message read.  “He created us in His image.  Doesn’t that mean we should be merciful too?”

“We’re going to play his own game?” Henry said.  “I don’t know if he’ll appreciate that.”

“I think he might,” Edward said, surprised that he found himself agreeing with Franklin for once.  “Nero…or Lindell…or whatever we’re going to call him…seems to fancy himself a philosopher.  Surely this is the kind of question he’d value.”

“Do you think it will last until morning?” Sadie asked.

“I don’t think the tide will rise high enough to wash it away,” Franklin said.  “Besides, I also took the liberty of carving a few symbols into the bark of all the trees behind us.  We should be able to last until daybreak.”

“While I appreciate your efforts, I think we should also pray to God for our protection,” Edward said.  “I’d feel a lot better about placing my trust in the Lord than in a bunch of archaic symbols and a question posed to a madman.”

“Correction,” Henry reminded him.  “Group of madmen.”

“You do your thing, and I‘ll do mine,” Franklin said.  “If it’ll do any good, Henry and Sadie can recite the alphabet backwards while standing on their heads.  I’m all for whatever works.”

“I‘m with Franklin,” Sadie said.  “Everybody should do what they feel comfortable with.”

Edward looked to Henry.  The old man shrugged.  “I kinda lost the notion to pray after Margaret got sick,” he admitted. 

“I don’t understand,” Edward said.  “Nero seems to have a fundamental problem with Christians, and yet I seem to be the only one in the group.”

“That probably means you’re in really big trouble,” Franklin said as he huddled closer to the fire.  “I think your reason for being here may be different than ours.”

As the sun melted into the horizon, a chill seeped into the air.  Everyone pitched in and gathered more driftwood to feed the fire for the remainder of the night.  Nobody said much while they worked.  They were all too busy wondering if they were going to get off of the island alive or if they would end up like Kelly.  The flames were a constant reminder of that. 

The fire glowed in the center of their makeshift camp like a gemstone in a ring setting.  In the pallor cast by the blaze, the moon had an orange patina to it that made it seem malevolent.  It was the kind of omen that might signal the end of the world.

“I sure wish we had a few steaks on hand instead of these power bars,” Franklin said as he nibbled on something called Peanut Butter Flax Seed Delight.  “These things taste like cardboard.”

“A hamburger would be better,” Sadie said.  “With bacon and Swiss cheese and French Fries on the side.”

“I could go for a deep dish pizza,” Henry said, playing along.  “With black olives, pepperoni, and sausage.  What about you, Edward?”

“How about a plate of nachos with refried beans, cheese sauce, and carne asada?”

Everyone salivated at the thought of their favorite food, wondering secretly whether they would ever get the chance to eat it again.  

“If we get off of this island alive, dinner‘s on me.” Franklin said.  “Everyone can have whatever they want, and we‘ll eat until we make ourselves sick.”

“All I want is to go back to my old life,” Sadie said.

“Same here,” Henry said.  “My life was never that exciting to begin with, but I’ll take boredom any day over being threatened by a homicidal maniac.”

“Correction,” Edward said with a wry smile.  “Group of homicidal maniacs.”

Henry laughed and the rest of the group followed.  It was a much needed tension reliever, and within minutes everyone seemed to be a little more relaxed. 

“So what is real life like for everybody?” Edward asked as he prodded the fire with a sharp stick.  “We know a little about each other.  But where is everyone from?  What kinds of movies do you like?  What do you hate more than anything else in the world?  Maybe we should talk about where we come from and what our lives were like back home.”

“I can answer that last one about what I hate the most,” Franklin said.  “My vote will be for ex-wife number 3.  She managed to get a seven-figure settlement out of me.  That was more than the first two ex-wives got combined.  Writing that check hurt me in more ways than I can count.”

“Sounds like love is expensive for you,” Henry laughed. 

“Chalk it up to inflation and bad judgment,” Franklin said.  “What about the rest of you?  Ever been married?’

“For fifty-two years,” Henry said, smiling at the memory.  “My wife, Margie, passed on last year after battling lymphoma.”

“She sounds like a wonderful lady,” Sadie said. 

“She was,” Henry said.  “She loved to sing and play the piano.  Margaret was a songbird and was as talented as she was beautiful.  If I had one wish, it would be to hear her sing one more song to me like she did on so many occasions.  I miss her.”

“I hope I find someone like that one of these days,” Sadie said.  “I’ve never even been close to tying the knot.”

“Lucky you,” Franklin said.  “Marriage is one of those knots that’s difficult to untie once the rope finds its way around your neck.  Of course, I’m only speaking personally here.  I’m sure lots of people find true love.”

“I did,” Henry said. 

“Marriage was different in your day,” Franklin protested.  “Now, it’s a disposable commodity.  If you get married and don’t like the choice you made, you can get a divorce.  No big deal.  People didn‘t do that when you were young.”

“Margie and I took our vows very seriously,” Henry said.  “But it was easy with us.  Marriage wasn’t a job in our house.”

“So what about you, Edward?” Sadie asked.  She realized her mistake after the question escaped her lips. 

“Oh sorry,” she followed up.  “I forgot what you said about your wife and son.” 

“No problem,” Edward said.  “Let’s talk about something else.” 

“I don’t want to talk about anything serious for the rest of the night,” Sadie said.  “Our minds need a vacation.”

“So what
do
you want to talk about?” Franklin asked.  “The economy?  World hunger?  Peace on earth and goodwill toward men?  The floor is yours.”

“What’s your middle name?”

“Why do you want to know?” Franklin asked. 

“Just curious.”

“Augustus.  Yours?”

“Michelle.  Henry, what about you?”

“Mine‘s Benjamin,” Henry said. 

“Edward‘s actually my middle name,” Edward said.  “My first is John.”

“What were you like in high school, Franklin?” Sadie asked.  “Were you the guy that got thrown in his locker everyday?  Or were you the one with the eternal wedgie?”

A fleeting look of embarrassment passed over Franklin’s features.  “High school wasn’t a good time for me.  I was a major geek.  I couldn’t get a date to save my life.  I spent every day trying to keep my head from being rammed into a toilet.  I didn’t have any friends.”

Hearing the buried pain in the man’s voice made Edward feel a twinge of sympathy for him.  “It says a lot that you were able to move past all of that and become as successful as you are.”

“I made it my mission to get rich,” Franklin said.  “I’ve achieved more than everybody I went to school with.  I’ve got more money than all the members of my graduating class combined.  So I guess I’m the one with the last laugh.  The guys who tormented me every day are fat, bald, and doing their best to make their mortgage payment.  They’re married to cheerleaders who have doubled in size, gotten pregnant three or four times, and become content to sit around the house all day watching The View.  In comparison, I think my life is pretty good.  What about everyone else?”

“I dropped out of school in the ninth grade,” Henry admitted.  “Education was the last thing on my mind.  My father died when I was fourteen, and I went to work doing oil changes at a local body shop to help my mother pay the bills.  I didn’t go back and get my GED until after my mother died.  I was twenty-six.  I probably wouldn’t have done it, but Margie encouraged me.  She supported me in everything I ever did.  But enough about all that.  I can’t keep talking about her or else I’ll start crying.  Sadie?  How about you, dear?”

Sadie smirked at Franklin.  “I’m one of those cheerleaders who is destined to double in size and get pregnant three or four times.”

“I’m glad to hear that you have goals,” Franklin chuckled.  “I’m sure if you continue on your current path to nowhere, you will achieve all your dreams.” 

“Actually, I was pretty popular in school,” Sadie continued, ignoring him.  “I was the salutatorian of my graduating class.  I was Homecoming Queen.  I didn’t have any problem getting dates, and for what it’s worth, I think I’m still doing pretty well for myself.  The only thing I regret is losing my baby.”

At first no one in the group knew what to say.  Finally, Edward broke the silence.  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I haven’t been the same since,” she admitted.  “I guess everything happens for a reason.”

“I’m sure that’s something you never really get over,” Henry said solemnly.

“Oh, it isn’t,” Sadie said without missing a beat.  “I still remember that car.  It was an old red Mustang that my father found at a junkyard.  He rebuilt the car from the tires up.  All my friends in school loved that car.  I loved it too.”

She grinned as she watched the expressions change on their faces.

“A car?” Franklin said with a relieved laugh.  “You had me going there for a minute.”

“Me too,” Edward said.  “I wasn’t sure what to say at first.  You got us.”

“Whatever happened to it?” Henry asked.

“I wrecked it on my way home from cheerleading practice,” Sadie said, laughing.  “I had a date that night and was busy trying to put on makeup and drive at the same time.”

“You’re proving my point about cheerleaders,” Franklin said, prompting an evil look.

From there, the conversation transitioned into a debate about the best western film of all time.  All but Henry voted for Tombstone.  Henry insisted that the best western was anything starring John Wayne or Clint Eastwood.  The group chatted about music, books, love, more food, hobbies, best vacations, and a host of other topics that kept them up until the wee hours of the morning.  The discussion was a way to shake off the fear that Nero had instilled in them.  It was also a way of staying awake. 

Still, the day had taken its toll on them, and eventually the weight of fatigue became too heavy to bear.  One by one, the group turned in for the night, curling up on their soft beds of leaves and tropical sand. 

Edward waited until everyone had settled in before saying a quick prayer asking God for His protection.  Then he found his own bed and closed his eyes. 

It didn’t take long for everyone to fall asleep.  They had all speculated on their ability to rest after the horrid fate that befell Kelly, but the psychological injuries they suffered forced their bodies to rest.  In this case, the mind knew what was best for the body.