To Kill a Priest - The Priors, Episode 1 (2 page)

“
How could such a thing
exist?”

At the base of one luminescent thread
appeared a woman dressed in an outlandish, white-belted kimono. She
finished thumbing the wall before turning around. Daniel peered at
the block wall, searching for what she had been holding, but
nothing was there. He could have sworn something had moved under
her hand, but it was gone. Unlike the man in the fedora and the
spectral building, her presence didn’t go unnoticed. She stood out
in her tattered, oriental gown. The shredded kimono swirled about
her with every intention of hiding her graceful curves, but failed
utterly.

Her auburn hair shone in the sun’s morning
rays, framing a pale face and wild eyes. Over the years, Daniel had
come to know the look of fear in others. Judging by her face and
the way people avoided her, she was in full flight. His brain went
into overdrive as he remembered that people were looking for him.
He had made a huge display and left disgruntled pedestrians in his
wake. They would have no problem identifying him now.

“
Dammit!” he spat. He had
to do something… He had to move. And right now, this woman needed
his help.

Entering the road, Daniel allowed morality
to guide his search for redemption.

Keeping Promises

Two days earlier, Jedd Altran slid an ID
badge over the petroleum tank at a local gas station. The words,
“Thank you for your patronage, Bradley Thomas,” scrolled by on the
monitor, and he selected premium fuel for his new Kamota Speedster.
It wasn’t like he was paying for the gas. Besides, insurance would
cover the cost.

His friend Koiyo had put together the ID
badge, and so far, it had proven invaluable. The new technology
accessed the records of previous customers and then randomly
selected a new identity and account to charge. He would have to
thank the tech-savvy guru the next time he saw him. For years they
had been an inseparable team, but recent circumstances had made his
visits dangerous; today’s would be the last. He couldn’t bear for
something to happen to his old college friend.

After the bike was fueled, Jedd slid his
helmet’s reflective face shield down and rode into traffic. He had
become an expert at hiding from his pursuers and found a casual,
inconspicuous attitude to be essential when in the midst of the
city’s denizens.

Under a desert sky, Jedd parked his bike in
one of many vacant spots at the shabby hotel. He passed the outdoor
pool and hot tub. The children splashed and played, but avoided the
drained hot tub. A glance told him why. A layer of sludge sat in
the bottom, littered with dead rats. Jedd walked up the stairs to
the room he had occupied for the last week. The tan stucco peeled
and cracked as he passed, as it had been doing for years. He
attempted to maintain a casual stride, but it was difficult to
stifle his anticipation at Koiyo’s new program.

Stepping into the room, he
shut the door and seated himself in front of his laptop. Jedd typed
in his password, and the computer loaded his programs. Then, Jedd
pulled out the new, portable hard drive and plugged it into the
computer. After a few key strokes, it
whirred
to life. As the computer
processed the hardware, Altran took the few minutes necessary to
pick up the remnants of his stay. What he was about to attempt
could require a quick escape.

Throwing the last sock into his bag, Jedd
reseated himself in the uncomfortable desk chair. The computer’s
completion bar finished its march to the edge of the window, and
its flashing cursor prompted Jedd for his next command. He hoped
this would finally allow him to keep his decade-old promise.

Before cuing the new software, he brought up
a program of his own creation, then ran his IP redirection
protocols, bypassing and looping through various locations
worldwide. With his security measures intact, Altran started the
new equipment. Pages flew onto the screen and disappeared as his
hands fluttered over the small keyboard. Within a few minutes, the
flurry of activity stopped, leaving a solitary window on the
computer display. It said ‘Access granted, Phillip Darling.’ The
next few windows came up, and he was gratified to see ‘PASTOR
Department’ heading the top of each screen. The acronym stood for
Phantom Assassin Shifting Technology & Organized
Reconnaissance, but the nature of the government-funded department
was so secret that few knew of its existence.

After years of searching, he’d found what he
was looking for thanks to an incompetent corporate adviser. Looking
at the list, Altran searched through files labeled by numbers and
names. Each one was accompanied by a picture. At the top of the
list was one titled ‘Shifter 1.’ He perused the file that opened
with the press of the mouse pad. A young man was pictured with an
elongated face and icy, blue eyes. One reference named him as
‘Leodenin.’ It seemed that the man was the first successfully
trained shifter from the department. He was entered into the
program when he was eight. There was no reference to the
whereabouts of his parents. Toward the bottom of the file, a list
tracked his assignments. A few assassinations were outlined;
leaders of small countries, but it seemed he had recently been
incorporated into the training of future shifters. The final line
listed future goals: ‘Integration into plane shifting, subterfuge,
and control of ruling governments.’

That’s gotta be a
joke,
thought Jedd, but his instincts and
past research told him otherwise. This covert department was hidden
from the public’s view for a reason. If their existence ever became
common knowledge, it would be easy for the US Government to deny
any association or knowledge of the PASTOR Department’s surreal
intentions.

Moving on, the hacker found a link labeled
‘Trainees.’ A list of files opened to him. He glossed over pictures
of young boys, other victims of the department’s ongoing pursuit of
trainable shifters. He paused on a few girls with similar features
to who he was looking for. After a few seconds of thought, he
returned to the previous page. Before long, certain files became
inaccessible. He tried others and received the same error message,
‘Access Denied!’

Someone’s shutting down
the connection. They must be onto me
…

New Revelations

With his time limited, Jedd jumped to the
bottom of the list. If the administrator was operating
sequentially, he might gain access to a few more before he lost the
connection. Luck was with him. Scanning the files of young
abductees, one picture stopped his fingers. The facial-recognition
program gave her an 89 percent match, but he could see her mother’s
features reflected in the image. Her oval face and petite nose told
him it was his goddaughter. Jedd could barely contain himself. He
felt like shouting to the world, hoping for an echo that might
repeat his success back to him.

He prodded the keyboard with urgency, saving
the file to his computer and portable hard drive. Unplugging the
drive from the computer, he slipped it into his jean pocket and
disabled the connection. Jed slid the mobile computer into a duffle
bag and set it next to the door.

“
Better safe than sorry,”
he had always said.

Jedd grabbed the appropriate cash from the
dresser and slid it into the payment terminal on the wall. There
were too many ways for hotel owners to track you down, so the key
was to never give them a reason. He had enough people looking for
him already, and they needed no help. He cautiously peered out the
peephole and slipped on his hat, a random purchase made at a local
gas stop. Along the brim it advertised for McCartey Racing, a
common favorite in the local circuit.

Opening the hotel door, Jedd hefted his bag
over his shoulder and stepped into the dry, El Paso air. After that
close call, he wasn’t about to take chances. His eyes were
plastered on the area around him. He didn’t want a gun-toting
PASTOR agent to suddenly appear from around a corner. Seeing no one
lurking about, Jedd stepped across the parking lot. He paused to
glance at the kids shouting and splashing in their bright bathing
suits.

Altran continued past the sport bike without
a glance, surveying the occupied spots for a new mode of transport.
Rule number one: Never be predictable. Keeping the same vehicle
would be asking to get pulled over. He spotted a sleek but modest
car and pulled out another of Koiyo’s inventions. Slipping what
looked like a penknife into the sedan’s lock, Jedd slipped a pair
of black, leather gloves on while waiting as the blade cycled
through digital combinations. Within seconds, it found the right
sequence. He smiled as the door opened beneath his hand. This was
the invention he prized most.

The owner won’t be happy
to find the vehicle missing, but considering the reputation of the
hotel and its temporary occupants, they probably won’t report the
theft. At the least, any report they file will be pure lies,
thought Jedd. This was why he chose these
locations. The people that used them normally desired
discretion.

After placing his bags in the trunk, Jedd
slipped into the front seat and started the engine. It was time to
find another place to lay low. The best location that came to mind
was a local coffee shop with free Internet. He had grown quite fond
of the cafés, but had to limit his visits. He didn’t wish to become
predictable. Predictability would lead to disastrous consequences,
most of which included his death, and this time there would be a
real body in the casket… his. Over the years, he had discovered a
lot about the PASTOR program. Most politicians would deny any
knowledge or association with it, but he knew better.

Altran pulled out of the decrepit hotel and
left the stuttering vacancy light behind. From the car dashboard,
the fuel gauge flashed at him expectantly. He would have to fill up
on his way. He coasted down the road, meandering through
traffic.

Jedd pulled out the computer hard drive and
synchronized it with his cell phone. He could have used the car
monitor, but didn’t want to leave a trail. He began scanning the
screen as he drove, sifting through the file using voice commands.
To take the next step, he needed more than his gut feeling and 89
percent; he needed proof.

After scanning the file for a few minutes,
he found what he needed. There was a reference to the trauma she
suffered before her capture and the subsequent memory wipes… more
than one. The vicious nature of her parents’ murder had become a
recurring nightmare. Reading further into the document, he noticed
that other than her patient number, 914, there was only one mention
of a name, Madelin.

How would someone deal
with the loss of all childhood memories?
he
wondered.
Is she still the same beautiful
child I remember?
Jedd dismissed the
question the instant it came to mind. If she were different,
pained, hardened to reality, then it was because of PASTOR. They
kidnapped her and wiped her memory. There was nothing she could
do.

His hatred grew, infusing him with
adrenaline as a flash of memory took over his senses. Before she
disappeared, he last saw her huddled alone in the driveway,
watching her house burn with her parents inside. She wavered back
and forth as Jedd watched through the flames, out of sight of the
PASTOR operatives milling around the front lawn. That day, they
looked like flies in their black, Kevlar outfits, hovering around
the fire and Madelin, but never coming close enough to touch
her.

The dingy, white nightgown clung to her
sweaty body. She clutched her ash-covered teddy bear to her stomach
as though it were her last link to sanity; she had named him
Deedee. Jedd hadn’t seen her since, but vividly recalled tears
streaming down her face as the flames danced across her
soot-blotched skin. They left dirty rivers of carnage streaking
from innocent, green eyes. It was as if the sight was trying to
singe itself into her memory forever, like it had his… and her
green, tear-filled eyes; he always felt as if they were nearby,
peering over his shoulder, but she was always just out of
sight.