Evil Origins: A Horror & Dark Fantasy Collection (71 page)

John stood in the cell and knew that he could not.

“I will not be forced to do your will.”

“You are right. You cannot. But you will suffer the
consequences. Consider our conversation. Think about Jana and the good you can
do for the Holy Covenant. Take comfort in the fact that you can tip the scales
and help defeat Satan’s army. God will welcome you through the Gates of Heaven,
and Earth shall sing your praises.”

John slid down the wall of the cell and collapsed onto
the floor. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his head between his
legs.

“I am through with you, Father. Speak to me no more.”

When he lifted his head again, the early morning sun danced
through the glass-block wall of the front bar of the Jigsaw. Alex was slumped
nearby, underneath the cooler, snoring off the last of the alcohol from the
night before.

Chapter
21

“The Infidels are growing in size, but they have yet to
organize.”

“Are they armed?”

“As best as we can tell, no. There is a group taking refuge
in the Jigsaw Saloon and Tavern in Parma. We think they are remnants of the
Keepers of the Wormwood and that they could have automatic weapons.”

“You mean the biker gang?”

“Yes.”

Father blew a perfect ring into the flickering, fluorescent
light hanging above the table. He closed his eyes while the smoke wrapped him
in its protective blanket.

The other priests sat amongst the military leaders. Men in
black robes carried Bibles, while those in camouflage carried machine guns.

The basement of St. Michael’s provided the group privacy and
a place to debrief. The generators created enough electricity to run a laptop
computer and projector. A high-ranking officer grabbed the laptop and bowed
before Father. He wore medals tacked to his chest, and they jangled when he
walked. A plain cross held in place by a silver chain sat over his coat. Father
noticed that many of the troops wore a crucifix around their neck.

“Father, what my sergeant here was trying to tell you is
that we have most of Cleveland secure. That doesn’t mean we won’t run into
roaming gangs of Infidels or snipers. I guarantee you we will. However, we have
enough firepower to handle whatever they throw at us.”

“When will we be ready for the Second Cleansing?”

“That depends on how quickly we dispose of the bodies from
the marked structures. If we can get this done in the next two or three weeks,
you’ll be able to commence the Second Cleansing right on time.”

Father looked around the table. The other men avoided his gaze
by shuffling papers or fidgeting with weapons.

“Have you heard from commanders in other areas?”

“Yes, I have. Pittsburgh and Columbus are in the same
situation we are. They have almost finished with the First Cleansing and appear
to be poised to begin the Second. There have been problems in other cities,
however. The sheer size of New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles have made it
difficult for us to control the situation. In those three cities, an all-out
war rages. Air strikes may need to be used to disarm the Infidels and flush
them out of their strongholds. Many of my men saw action in Afghanistan and
Iraq, and an overweight buck hunter isn’t going to pose the same threat as the
Taliban did. I can tell you that for sure.”

“Don’t underestimate them, general. Satan’s fury should not
be taken lightly.”

“We are using any and all means of accomplishing the aims of
the Holy Covenant. It may take more time elsewhere, but Cleveland is all but
secure under my command.”

“And what of the Keepers of the Wormwood? What is your plan
for dealing with this group?”

“For now, nothing. If we can secure the neighborhoods around
Parma on the west side, they’ll have nowhere to go. We can wait them out and
avoid taking casualties. I have snipers that can pick them off from a thousand
yards.”

“That is fine as long as it doesn’t slow down the initiation
of the Second Cleansing. Know that if I call for it, I want that group burned
off the face of the Earth and sent to Satan’s gate.”

“That should not be a problem, Father.”

“Very well. That is all we need to discuss on the matter. Does
anyone have an update on the whereabouts of John the Revelator?”

The men at the table continued looking down into their
hands. After an uncomfortable silence, a young priest spoke up.

“Father, we have not yet located him. He may have been with
the vet and escaped through the wreckage barricade at the intersection of 271
and 480.”

Father took a final drag on his cigar and exhaled across the
table. He looked up to the ceiling and then back at the priest who’d spoken. The
proximity of the ember burned his tongue, turning his words bitter. Father made
the sign of the cross and wiped a lone bead of sweat from the end of his nose. A
nervous silence enveloped the room.

“If The Revelator is not found before we initiate the Second
Cleansing, we all have to answer to Him.”

Chapter
22

Both men froze. Jana remained behind Peter, and looked at
Jake over Peter’s right arm. Jake’s hand held a steady bead on Peter, the gun
pointed directly at his head. Jake’s eyes darted around the store. He then
stole a glance back over his shoulder at the open storeroom door.

“Shut and lock that door with the chain and padlock,” Jake
said to Jana.

“But I can’t—”

“Do it or you both die, bitch.”

Jana moved across the floor, navigating past the empty
coffee cups and cupcake wrappers that littered the floor. Jake backed into the
wall and turned his right arm toward Peter. He kept the pistol aimed at Peter’s
face.

“Can you put that thing down, lad? I’m not armed and I’m
sure as hell not going to rush at a loaded weapon.”

“Shut up,” was all that Jake said.

Jana wrapped the chain around the handle of the door, making
as much noise as she possibly could before finally snapping the padlock into
place.

“Now move back over behind the ugly Brit.”

“I’m Welsh, you punk.”

Jake turned the gun sideways and pulled it back, cocked and
ready to kill.

“One more word from you and I’ll split your skull with a
bullet.”

Peter held both hands up signifying his supplication.

“Are you going to shoot me too?” asked Jana. “Why don’t you
pump as many bullets as you can into everyone here. What is your problem?”

“My problem is that you won’t shut the fuck up.”

Jake stepped toward Jana and slapped her before she could
raise an arm to block it. Her hair spun around and the slap of skin echoed off
the silent store walls. Peter bit his lip so hard that a trickle of blood ran
from the corner of his mouth.

“Touch her again, and I’ll kill you,” Peter said.

Jake’s eyes glazed over with rage, and his chest heaved. He
opened his mouth but nothing came out. The gun was still aimed at Peter, and
now Jake squeezed the trigger. Three bright flashes of light engulfed the store
as three explosions punctured the night air, followed by Peter’s body landing
in a magazine rack. Three holes appeared in his chest. Jana’s scream
reverberated in her own skull. Jake lowered the smoking barrel to his side. Sweat
poured off his forehead and his eyes never left Peter. The Welshman’s eyes
fluttered for a split second, then remained open as he expelled a final breath.
Dull thuds started as the others in the storeroom pounded on the padlocked
door.

All of Jake’s senses returned like a wave pulling the ocean
back to its murky depths. Jana’s screaming and the muffled protest of the
people in the room startled him. A thin, high-pitched squeal faded in and out. Smoke
filled the convenience store as the burning spice of gunpowder tinged their
nostrils.

“…you bastard! You fucking killed him!” Jana screamed.

Jake pulled plastic zip ties from his pocket and wrapped
them around Jana’s wrists. Before she could resist, Jake pulled them hard,
drawing blood where the plastic cut into her flesh. He then punched her hard in
the stomach. Jana doubled over in front of Jake. He pushed her by the shoulder
to the floor. While she gasped for breath, Jake looped another zip tie around
Jana’s ankles.

“All he had to do was shut up. He couldn’t fucking shut up,
could he?”

Jake walked to the storeroom door and called out to those
now imprisoned inside.

“One person out here is dead and another is asking for it. If
everyone doesn’t shut up, now, I’ll open fire and send all of you to hell. Got
it?”

The group fell silent, but Jana spoke.

“They must’ve heard the shots. It’s a matter of time before
they get here. Why would you be so fucking stupid?”

Jake yanked her up by the hair and smacked her across the
face again.

“Shut. Up,” he said, emphasizing each syllable of the
command.

He pushed his hands through his hair and shoved the gun into
the waistband of his jeans. Jake walked toward the shattered front windows and
peered into the dark streets of South Euclid. He shivered and waited for the
searchlights of a patrol, but none appeared.

Jake’s eyes scanned the parking lot and came to rest on the
car-wash building. He grabbed Jana by her elbows and lifted her off the floor. Jake
flung her over his shoulder in one motion and pulled the gun from his
waistband. He slid toward the front door, looked out, and began carrying Jana
toward the car-wash building. He felt his shoulder digging deep into her
abdomen, and she grunted with each jolting step.

When they reached the office of the car wash, the locked
doorknob would not turn. With the butt end of the gun, Jake shattered the lock
and opened the door. A crooked desk sat in one corner facing a greasy window in
the front. He dropped Jana behind the desk with an ugly thump, and he crouched
under a stack of cardboard boxes.

Searching beams of light came from Warrensville Road toward
Mayfield, creeping along at about four miles per hour. Marksmen sat in the back
of the APC, swinging spotlights over the empty windows of the deserted
businesses. They paused in front of the gas station and then moved on down
Mayfield toward Cleveland. Jake exhaled and dropped his chin to his chest.

“They don’t know where it came from. It’s a good thing you
locked them in the storeroom.” Jake’s voice reverted back to its cool delivery.

“Please let me go. Please,” Jana said.

“I’ve sat tight long enough. The world’s going to hell. I’m
taking whatever the fuck I want, starting with you.”

Jake took a blue bandana doused with a noxious mixture of
cheap cologne and motor oil from his back pocket and used it to gag Jana. He
moved his hand to her waist. Jake took a buck knife from his pocket and slid it
inside her shirt. Jana’s white skin gleamed in the moonlight. She whimpered and
struggled as Jake’s hands kneaded her breasts. He fondled her before his gaze
trailed down toward her jeans. Jake used the knife to cut a long slice up both
legs of the denim to the waist, leaving the soiled bandage on her thigh. He
peeled back Jana’s jeans, exposing black, cotton panties. Jana twisted and
fought Jake with every muscle in her body. He stopped.

“Lie still or I will plunge this knife into your stomach. It
will take days for you to bleed to death. It is not a pleasant way to die.”

Jana believed the killer and stopped fighting, but her
nervous twitches could not be controlled. Jake took the knife and cut the top
of her panties on each hip. He pulled them away and felt a growing heat in his pants.
He placed the gun and knife next to Jana’s bound feet. With his hands on the
inside of Jana’s knees, the murderer pushed her legs apart. He inhaled and
licked Jana’s belly button while he pressed a hand on her pubic hair.

“Anarchy has its privileges,” Jake said as he stood up.

He unzipped his jeans and dropped them to his ankles. The
ragged and torn boxer shorts landed on top of a crumpled pile of garments. Jana
stared mindlessly at the drop ceiling in the office and counted the individual
tiles. She heard him groan and felt his skin on hers.

Jake grunted, and his contorted face crashed hard against
the thin carpet of the office, landing to Jana’s left. Her brain struggled to
process what was happening. She could still feel the cool air against her exposed
areas. A hand reached down and used Jake’s knife to cut the zip ties from her
ankles and wrists, then removed the filthy bandana from her mouth. Jana’s lungs
burned with the intake of the cool November chill. A blanket floated down from
above, covering her exposed skin up to her neck.

Jana sat and looked down at the pool of dark liquid that
crept toward her from the ax blade lodged in the back of Jake’s head. A yellow
handle pointed down and parallel to the rest of the body. Jana shuffled away
from him toward the corner in an instinctive attempt to escape danger. She
mumbled and whimpered, trying to form her thoughts into words. She glanced up
and saw a figure above her.

“C’mon, honey, come with me. That’ll be the last time that
man says the word nigger.”

Ruth and Sally lifted Jana by her hands and shepherded her
back into the gas station. Jana kept the blanket tight around her shoulders,
like a superhero in a cape. She left her ripped clothing on the floor of the
office, as it no longer served any purpose.

“How did you get out?” Jana managed to ask, forcing each and
every word from trembling lips.

“Dumbass forgot that the back door locks from the inside. We
only wish we could have saved Peter,” Ruth responded.

Inside the storeroom, the rest of the group avoided eye
contact with Jana. Ruth waved at them with one hand.

“He didn’t get to her, if that’s what you want to ask. Someone
get this girl into spare clothes.”

Sally stepped forward and helped Jana into the employee
restroom.