The Burning Time (26 page)

He won’t do anything before the fair.
That seemed pretty certain. So best to stick to his own plan and take off the day of the fair, when the church would be empty.

A neon Pabst Blue Ribbon sign blinked unsteadily up ahead, and Billy Ray decided it would be as good a place as any to quench his thirst, and hopefully get something solid in his stomach as well. Anything would do. Hell, he was so hungry he’d be willing to eat a few of the ancient pickled eggs the old-timers seemed so in love with.

The inside of The Cellar was exactly what Billy Ray expected. A dimly lit room smelling of old beer, cigarette smoke, and sweat, with an underlying odor of piss and beer farts. The tables and booths were empty; five or six old men, all dressed in well-worn denim shirts and jeans or green Dickies work clothes, sat at the bar, conversing in low tones. No jukebox interrupted the quiet with raucous noise. Instead, a small television mounted on the wall behind the bar played CNN with the sound off.

Billy Ray took a seat at the end of the bar, farthest from the geezers. Experience had taught him that his long-haired look wouldn’t win him any favors from their kind, and he didn’t have the money to placate them with a free round, so no sense antagonizing them by sitting closer.

The bartender, a tall fellow with a gray crew cut and a belly that threatened to clear the shelves whenever he turned, slowly approached Billy Ray.

“Bottle of Pabst,” Billy Ray said, his eyes more on the television than the man in front of him. He was still watching the talking heads mutely summarizing the day’s news when a bottle slammed down on the bar, spraying foam across Billy Ray’s arm.

“Hey! What’s the—” He stopped cold at the angry look on the bartender’s face.

“That’ll be four-fifty. Drink up and get the fuck out.”

Billy Ray slowly took a five dollar bill from his pocket and laid it on the bar, his eyes never leaving the bartender. “What’s your problem?”

“You, asshole,” one of the old men said, and the others laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound.

“Look, I just wanna have a beer or two. I’m not here to bother anyone. I’m from the church,” Billy Ray added, thinking that might smooth things over.

“We know who the fuck you are.” The bartender pointed a sausage finger at him. “That’s the only reason you ain’t on the floor eatin’ glass. Now drink your beer and go, or tomorrow you’ll be sellin’ tickets from a wheelchair.”

This time the old men didn’t laugh, just nodded their heads in angry agreement.

No, it was more than just anger,
Billy Ray thought as he chugged his beer. They looked furious, as if they’d just caught him stealing their wallets or fucking their wives.

They looked ready to kill.

Billy Ray finished his beer just as the bartender slapped two quarters onto the bar.

“Keep it, asshole,” he told the man. He wondered if it was his own temper getting the best of him, or if the same thing that had the whole town on edge was beginning to affect him, too. Either way, he recognized the danger of starting trouble when outnumbered six to one, so he turned and headed for the door before his mouth could say anything else stupid.

As his hand closed on the knob, a sharp sting, followed instantly by another, blossomed on his back. He kept his gaze straight ahead as the two quarters fell to the floor with a metallic clink.

Even after the door closed behind him, the raucous laughter from inside the bar still reached his ears.

“I hope you choke on your pickled eggs, you inbred motherfuckers.” Billy Ray flipped his middle finger at the bar, what Tony Lopez would have called a pussy move, since no one could see it, but it made him feel a tiny bit better just the same.

All the way home, anger, fear, and frustration churned inside him, creating a pounding in his head that beat in time to his footsteps. Billy Ray found his hand was shaking as he went to open the church’s front door, intending to see if there was anything in the kitchen to drink.
Damn him! Damn all of them! I can’t wait to get my ass somewhere normal.

So great was his distraction that he was three steps into the church before he noticed the changes.

Cyrus Christian sat on the red felt-covered steps leading to the altar. A pile of broken plaster surrounded him, and the giant crucifix that had hung behind the pulpit since Billy Ray was a child lay on the floor. All the smaller crosses were gone. Billy Ray glanced around. Nothing religious remained on any of the walls.

“Tough night in town, Billy?” Christian’s voice echoed across the church. Before Billy Ray could respond, the Reverend continued. “Best not to go out after dark anymore. Hastings Mills is a dangerous place right now.”

Billy Ray headed for the basement entrance, no longer interested in anything but getting as far from Christian as possible. His previous anger and frustration were gone, leaving only the fear.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You do that, Billy. I’d hate to lose you before your work is done.” Christian’s chuckle followed Billy Ray to the back of the church and down the basement stairs, only fading away when Billy Ray lay down in bed.

He was still wide awake when the morning sun rose.

*   *   *

“So, what’s your plan for stopping Christian?”

John looked up from the book he’d brought back from his house as Danni entered the living room. It contained all his family’s spells and magical recipes. “Basically, I need to separate him from his magic, either by blocking him from it or removing his ability to use it.”

Danni handed him a glass of lemonade and sat down across from him with her own glass. With nowhere else to go, they’d returned to Anderson’s house, where John had rigged another warding spell around the entire property.

“And you’ll do that how?”

John took a long drink and then held the cool glass against his forehead. With the power still out, the air was stifling, even with the windows open. Not a breath of a breeze stirred the curtains, and nightfall hadn’t brought any relief from the heat.

“That’s what I’m trying to work out. The problem is, no matter what spell I use, I need something that’s going to be hard to get.”

“What? Maybe I know someplace in town.”

“Something that belongs to Christian.”

Danni slammed her glass down so hard lemonade splashed out. “Oh, that’s just great.”

From his room upstairs, Mitch yelled down to them, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, kiddo. I just dropped something.” In a softer voice, she said to John, “And how the hell do you propose we accomplish that feat? Ask him if we can borrow his watch? Or maybe I can distract him and you can pick his pocket, all without us getting killed?”

“I said it would be hard.”

“Hard? I’d say impossible. The fair is in one week. That doesn’t give us much time.”

“There’s less time than you think.” John tapped the book. “These spells take a couple of days to prepare, so I’d say we have about three days.”

“For what?”

John turned and found Mitch standing at the bottom of the stairs, wearing only a bathing suit.

“A miracle,” Danni said.

“Actually, Mitch might be our best hope.” John braced himself for Danni’s reaction. It wasn’t long in coming.

“Our best...Oh, no. There’s no way I’m letting my brother get involved in this any more than he already has. We’ll figure something out, you and I. But leave Mitch out of it.”

“Leave me out of what?”

“We have to steal something from Christian.” John stared at Danni as he said it.

“
We
don’t have to do anything. I told you. I’ll help you. Mitch stays here where it’s safe.”

“I wanna help.”

“And I want this all to be a bad freakin’ dream. Wanting something doesn’t make it happen. I’m not letting you anywhere near that psychopath.”

“Danni—”

“Don’t Danni me, John. I’m responsible for him, dammit. I know what’s at stake here. If your spell doesn’t work, a lot of people are gonna die, right?” She continued on before he could answer. “But not everyone. There’s a good chance I can keep Mitch alive, especially if he stays here, where he’s already protected by that magic circle of yours. So why should I let him do something that pretty much guarantees his death?”

John sighed. Danni thought she had a grasp of what would happen if Christian succeeded in his plan. But she had no idea...He took her hands, ignoring the tingle that went through his flesh and hoping he could convey the seriousness of the situation to her.

“What Christian intends to do...you’re right, a lot of people will die, but they’ll be the lucky ones. It’s the ones who survive who’ll suffer the most. Creatures will hunt them down, force them to endure horrible things. And the town...well, let’s just say I’ve seen what he can do.”

“What?” Mitch asked in a hushed voice.

“Most of the buildings destroyed. Most of the people gone. The few who were left, they were hiding inside burnt-out houses and stores, half-crazy and living like wild animals.”

There was silence after John finished speaking. Danni slowly pulled her hands from his and clenched them into fists in her lap. Mitch looked back and forth between them, looking like a deer caught between the headlights of two oncoming cars.

John cleared his throat.

“Don’t say a word.” Danni stood up, her lower lip quivering, tears threatening to cascade over her lower eyelids. She ran out of the room. Mitch stood up to follow her, but John put a hand on his arm.

“Let her go. She needs to work this out by herself.”

“But I wanna help. I can talk to her, convince her...”

“This is something she has to decide on her own, Mitch. You’re too young to understand, but someday you’ll have a family, and hopefully you won’t ever be in a position where you have to make a decision that puts someone you love in danger.”

“Have you had to make that kind of choice?”

Images flashed in John’s head.

Too many to count.

“Yes, I’ve had to make some very hard choices in my life. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Sometimes...sometimes life isn’t fair.”

“This is one of those times. Just like Christian choosing our town.” Mitch spat the words out, his eyes blazing with anger.

“That’s right. Your sister knows all this. Now she has to accept it and move past.” John stood up. “Tell you what. While we wait, let’s figure out what to make for dinner.”

John was scooping elbow macaroni onto Mitch’s plate when Danni came into the kitchen. “Something smells good,” she said, giving them a half-hearted attempt at a smile. Her red, swollen eyes told the true story of how she felt.

“It was either elbows and jar sauce or baked beans and tuna fish.” John waved the ladle toward an empty chair. “Get a plate and sit down before Mitch eats it all.”

“John...”

“Not now.” He spooned macaroni onto her plate. “We’ll talk after dinner. There’s bread, too, but no butter.”

Danni shook her head. “No, let’s get it over with. Otherwise dinner will be nothing but awkward silence.”

John sat down. “Whatever you decide, I’ll abide by it.”

“I know.” This time her smile was both sad and grateful. “That’s one of the things I lo...like about you. But you’re right. We have to do whatever it takes to stop Christian.” John started to speak, and Danni raised her hand in a stopping motion. “However,” she said, her voice harder, “that doesn’t mean I want Mitch doing anything too dangerous. Maybe he can, you know, be a lookout or something?”

“Actually, that’s the role I had in mind for us. Have you ever heard the military expression ‘divide and conquer?’”

Danni and Mitch both nodded.

“What I propose is that you and I create distractions to get Christian and that unsavory handyman of his out of the church for a while. That will give Mitch time to sneak in and take something of Christian’s. Anything will do. A pen, a sock, even some hair from a hair brush. As soon as he’s out and safe, we’ll meet and return here.”

An excited look came over Danni’s face. “I think I have a better idea. Hang on a sec.” Before anyone could speak, she left the table. A moment later, John heard footsteps on the stairs.

“What’s going on?” Mitch asked.

John shrugged, wondering the same thing.

They didn’t have to wait long. Danni came right back, a large folder in her hands. “I was pretty sure I still had this,” she said, placing it on the table. “It’s the volunteer package we all got when we signed up to help with the church’s events.”

“This will help us?”

She pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to John. “A schedule for the whole month. Look. Christian’s got a meeting tomorrow with the school administrators and business council. And Billy will probably be collecting money or setting things up at the park.”

“Excellent!” John smiled. “You and I can watch Christian and Billy, and Mitch will have plenty of time to get in and out of the church.”

“What if someone comes back early?” The nervous look was back on Danni’s face. “I’ve got the only cell phone.”

“Leave that to me,” Mitch said. “I’ll get my old walkie-talkies from my closet.”

“Those things still work?” Danni’s eyebrows rose in disbelief.

“As long as we have batteries,” Mitch said. “I’ll go check.”

Alone with Danni, John suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if something in the room had changed.
Or something between
us
,
he thought, noticing the strange way she was staring at him.

“Something’s on your mind.” He made it a statement rather than a question.

She placed her hand over his. Although he had a strong suspicion of what she was about to say, and he dreaded hearing it, and what he’d have to tell her in return, he didn’t stop her.

“John, if...if something happens to me tomorrow, or even after tomorrow, if you can’t stop Christian, I want you to take Mitch and get the hell away from here.”

John’s prepared speech faded away. She wanted him to take care of Mitch? He’d thought...
well, it’s better this way. The two of us could never...
“Danni, nothing’s going to happen.”