This Present Darkness (27 page)

“Oh … um … yeah,” said Hank, finally getting his counselor’s thoughts in gear. “That was what we were talking about, wasn’t it?”

TRISKAL LOOKED TOWARD
Mary. She was thanking the box boy and closing her trunk.

Rafar watched Triskal, amused. “Oh, I see. You are here to protect her. From what? Did you expect to swat mere flies?” Triskal had no answer. Rafar’s tone became cruel and cutting. “No, you are mistaken, little angel. It is a much greater power with whom you have to do.”

Rafar tapped the ground with his sword, and Triskal immediately felt the iron hands of two demons clamping his arms from behind. He looked toward Mary. She was looking for the key to the car door. She was getting into the car. Another demon stretched out his sword and pierced the hood of the car. Mary tried to start the engine. Nothing happened.

Rafar looked toward the nearby laundromat that faced the parking lot. A young, greasy-looking character stood in front of it, leaning
against a post. Triskal could tell the man was possessed by one of Rafar’s henchmen—as a matter of fact, several of them. At Rafar’s nod, the demons went into action and the man started walking toward Mary’s car.

Mary checked her lights. No, she had not left them on. She turned the key on and turned on the radio. It played. The horn honked. What on earth was the matter? She saw the young character coming her way from the direction of the laundromat. Oh, great.

As Triskal watched helplessly, the demons guided the man up to the car window.

“Hey, cutie,” he said, “having some trouble here?”

Mary looked out at him. He was skinny, dirty, and dressed in black leather and chrome chains.

She called through the window, “Uh … no thanks. I’m all right.”

He only smirked, eyeing her up and down as he said, “Why don’t you open up and let me see what I can do?”

HANK DIDN’T FEEL
right about any of this. Where was Mary? At least Carmen was making a little more sense this time. She seemed to be dealing with her problems intelligently and with a genuine desire to change things. Maybe it would be different this time, but Hank wasn’t counting on it.

“So,” he asked, “what do you suppose became of those amorous voices in the night?”

“I don’t listen to them anymore,” she answered. “There’s one thing you helped me to realize, just by talking about it: Those voices aren’t real. I’ve only been fooling myself.”

Hank was very gentle when he agreed, “Yes, I think you’re right.”

She heaved a deep sigh and looked at him with those big blue eyes. “I was trying to cope with my loneliness, that’s all. I think that was it. Pastor, you’re just so strong. I wish I could be that way.”

“Well, the Bible says, ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.’”

“Uh-huh. Where’s your wife?”

“Getting groceries. She should be back any minute.”

“Well …” Carmen leaned forward and smiled ever so sweetly. “I’m really drawing strength from your company. I want you to know that.”

MARY COULD FEEL
her heart pounding. What would this guy do next?

The man leaned against the window and his breath fogged the glass as he said, “Say, sweetheart, why don’t you tell me your name?”

Rafar grabbed Triskal by the hair and jerked his head around. Triskal thought his head would snap off.

Rafar breathed sulfur right into Triskal’s face as he said, “And now, little angel, I will have words with you.” The tip of the long sword came up to Triskal’s throat. “Where is your captain?”

Triskal did not answer.

Rafar yanked his head around and let him look toward Mary.

The man tried the latch on Mary’s door. She was terrified. She groped for every lock button in the car, pushing each one down only seconds before the man could grab the outside latch. He tried all the doors, a leering smile on his face. Mary tried the horn again. A demon had already taken care of that—it didn’t work. Rafar twisted Triskal’s head back again, and the cold blade pressed against Triskal’s face.

“I will ask you again: Where is your captain?”

CARMEN WAS STILL
telling Hank how much good this counseling was doing her, how he reminded her of her former husband, and how she was looking for a man with his qualities. Hank had to put a lid on this stuff.

“Well,” he finally cut in, “do you have any other people in your life that you feel are significant as far as strength, support, friendship, those kinds of things?”

She looked at him just a little mournfully. “Sort of. I have friends who hang out at the tavern. But nothing ever lasts.” She let her thoughts brew for a moment, then asked, “Do you think I’m attractive?”

THE MAN IN
black leather leaned close to Mary’s window, threatened her with horrible obscenities, then started banging on the glass with a large metal buckle.

Rafar nodded to a warrior whose hand passed through Mary’s window and grasped the lock button, ready to pull it up at Rafar’s order. The demons in the young man were drooling and ready. His hand was on the latch.

Rafar made sure Triskal could see it all, and then said, “Your answer?”

Triskal finally spoke, moaning, “The brake …”

Rafar held him tighter, leaning closer. “I didn’t hear you.”

Triskal repeated it. “The brake.”

Mary had a flash. The car was parked on an incline. It wasn’t much, but it might be enough to get the car moving. She released the parking brake and the car started to roll. The creep wasn’t expecting that; he banged on the window, tried to get around in front of the car to stop it, but it began to roll at a steady clip and he soon realized that his efforts to stop it were becoming a little too obvious to other shoppers.

A husky contractor standing by his big four-wheeler finally saw what was going on and hollered, “Hey, creep, whaddaya doin’?”

Rafar watched it happen, his rising anger coursing through his big iron fist, making it tighten more and more around Triskal. Triskal thought his neck would crack any moment.

But then Rafar seemed to give in.

“Desist!” he ordered the demons. They backed off; the man gave up the chase and tried to saunter nonchalantly away. The big contractor started after him, and he fled.

The car kept rolling. There was an exit from the parking lot that emptied onto a backstreet with a fairly good grade. Mary steered for it, hoping no other cars or pedestrians would get in her way.

Triskal saw that she would make it.

So did Rafar. The cold steel of his blade pressed against Triskal’s throat. “Well done, little angel. You have spared your charge until a more opportune time. I will leave you with only a message for today. Pay careful attention.”

With that, Rafar released Triskal into the hands of his henchmen. One huge, warty demon pounded his iron fist into Triskal’s torso and sent him spinning into the air where another demon intercepted him with a swat of his sword, carving a deep gash in his back. Triskal fluttered and tumbled down in a daze, into the clutches of two more demons
who pummeled his limp body with iron fists and tore at him with taloned feet. For several horrible minutes the demons made violent sport with him as Rafar coldly watched. Finally the great Ba-al gave a growled command, and the warriors let Triskal go. He flopped to the ground, and Rafar’s big taloned foot stomped down on his neck. The huge sword swung down and waved in small circles before Triskal’s eyes as the demon master spoke.

“You will tell your captain that Rafar, the Prince of Babylon, is looking for him.” The big foot pressed harder. “You will
tell
him!”

Suddenly Triskal was alone, a limp, ragged wreck. He struggled to his feet again. All he could think of now was Mary.

HANK GENTLY TOOK
hold of Carmen’s hand, lifted it off his own, and placed it courteously in her lap. He held it there for just a moment and looked into her eyes with compassion and yet firmness. He let go of it and then leaned back in his chair to a safe distance.

“Carmen,” he said with a soft and understanding voice. “I’m very flattered that you’re so impressed with my masculine qualities … and really, I have no doubts that a woman of your particular qualities will have no trouble finding a good man with whom to build a lasting and meaningful relationship. But listen—I don’t mean to sound abrupt, but I have to emphasize one thing right here and now: I am not that man. I’m here as a minister and counselor, and we have to keep this relationship strictly limited to that of a counselor and his client.”