The Demon Senders (26 page)

He waited for his anger to bring him other directions to take, then began to wonder if there were any other directions for him.

There was nothing he could do to help Phillip. He needed to find the senders.

“Where do you think we should start?”

“I’m far from a Bible expert,” Jen answered, “but I’m pretty sure Genesis is where the Bible starts so it makes sense for us to do the same. Don’t you think?”

After having retrieved the Bible from the nightstand drawer, Mac had been standing in front of Jen, holding the book and nervously shaking his head.

“Why are you so nervous about reading the Bible?” Jen asked. A flash of terror crossed her face. She stood up and began backing away from Mac, never moving her eyes off of his. She felt her way to the door then reached for the door handle.

“What the hell are you doing?” Mac asked.

“Why can’t you open that Bible?” Jen asked, her voice creased with fear. “Open it. Prove that you can open it.”

“You’re not thinking… Jen, do you think I’m one of them? Seriously?”

“Open that Bible.”

“Jen, I’ll read whatever you want from any book in this Bible. Jeez, Jen, I’m just scared as hell that you and I will open this book, start reading and not get any message. Actually, the truth is, I’m scared that either we won’t get a message or that we will get a message and that message will tell us that we have to face this Henry character face to face. Or that we need to kill Satan himself using nothing but two spoons and a Dixie cup. I’m scared, Jen, about everything and everyone. What Rachel did to me hurt me. Think what you want about me and how I felt about her, but she hurt me. I try to do what I guess I have to do for the rest of my life, and for my efforts, I get my ass kicked and, if not for you, I get killed.

“I don’t trust anyone, Jen, and I am pissed as hell that my life is over. I will never have a relationship, will never fall in love, will never get married, never have kids, will never get to complain about my boss and get a fucking gold watch after working in some shit job for twenty-five years. You wonder why I’m having trouble opening up this Bible? Because I’m scared as hell and pissed off that I’m a sender and had no choice in becoming one. That’s why.”

Mac threw the Bible across the room. It smacked against the wall above one of the room’s queen beds then fell open onto the pillow.
 

Jen stood, staring wide-eyed at Mac, who was staring at the Bible laying open on the bed a few feet beside him. His fear, anger and pain were palpable, filling the room with a suspense-filled stillness. Jen released her grip of the door handle, dropped her arms listlessly to her side, then sighed heavily. “Mac, I’m sorry that I…”

“Shhh,” Mac said, holding a raised hand towards her. His face was intense, filled with a renewed sense of awe and of fear. “Look at the words,” he whispered as he pointed at the Bible and the white pillow it sat on. As if the pages of the Bible were made of metal and the words were magnets that had lost their attraction, letters and words were slipping from the pages and onto the crisp, white pillowcase. As the words flowed from the Bible, they began to form words, sentences and, Mac hoped, directions.
 

“Oh my God, Mac,” Jen said, her words laced with wonderment. She walked over and stood close to Mac as he stood motionless at the end of the bed. She reached her hand up and caressed his shoulder, saying, “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Mac only nodded his head in response then moved, slowly, to the side of the bed and closer to the pillowcase that was now covered with spilled words.

The words continued to slip from the pages of the Bible. Soon, the pillowcase was filled and the flow of words altered their course and began to form more sentences on the adjacent pillow.

“What is it saying?” Jen asked.

“Don’t know yet,” Mac said. “Thinking I should wait till it’s done doing whatever the heck it’s doing. Don’t want to interrupt it. Or Him, or, whatever is making this happen.”

A sudden fear raced through Jen. Her breath stuck in her lungs and the words she wanted to say became lodged in her throat. She pushed out, “Mac, do you think this is good or…”

“It’s not evil, Jen. Can’t be. Something tells me our help has arrived.”

<<<<>>>>

The words stopped flowing from the Bible after nearly five minutes. One full and one half pillow case was covered with tiny, black words. Mac reached for and picked up the Bible. He opened it and found countless white blotches where words were once printed onto the white paper. He held the book by its spine and shook it, wondering if any of the words had become stuck and would fall out as a result of his actions.

No more words dropped from the pages.

“I guess we should do some reading,” Mac said.

“This is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen and if I didn’t actually see it happen, I would never believe it.”

Mac said, “I’m a little shaky. Think you can read it for us?”

“Yeah, I’m not shaky at all,” Jen quipped. She reached her hand towards the pillow and felt that the words were not simply laying on the fabric, but had become part of the pillowcase. “Well, this was unexpected,” she said.

“It’s so we can bring the pillowcase with us. Won’t have to commit it to memory,” Mac said. “I know what I’m about to say wouldn’t make my Sunday school teacher proud, but, I think I need a couple of beers in me before I listen to you read this.”

“There’s a 7-11 at the corner,” Jen said. “You run out, grab a six pack. I’ll start reading.” She stood erect quickly, raised her hand and extended her finger directly towards Mac’s face. “But you better not leave me. You better not run away.”

“Jen,” Mac said, his face as soft as his words, “you and I are stuck with each other. I’ll never leave you. Well, I’m about to leave you to get beer but I’ll never leave you for longer than it takes to buy beer. I don’t want you to think that you and I will always be together. Joined at the hip, as they say. I just…”

“Mac,” Jen smiled. “Go get your beer. And hurry.”

<<<<>>>>

Mac asked Jen to hold off reading the pillowcase until he had finished his first beer and had popped open his second. “Like a lot of feelings I’ve had lately,” he said, “I don’t think what you’re about to read is going to tell us to pack up and move out right away. I think having a few beers to calm me down will be okay.”

“Well,” Jen replied, “if you trust your feelings, grab me a beer, too. My stomach is vibrating with fear.”

“I’ve always said that a girl who drinks beer while reading words that magically fall out of a Bible is my kind of girl.”

“You’ve always said that?” Jen joked.

“Something like that. I may be embellishing a tad.”

“Shut up and give me my beer.”

Jen began to read.

The words had been pulled from various books of the Bible. Some expressions, like “In the beginning”—which were the first three words on the pillowcase—were familiar to both Jen and Mac. But most of the sentences were new, fresh and pulled together only for the two of them. As Jen read, Mac scribbled down phrases that struck him as more important than others. When Jen finished reading the spilled out words, Mac added his thoughts to his scribbles.

“Well?” Jen asked. “What do you think?” She was exhausted, not from the simple act of reading but rather from the demanding toll her emotions were placing on her. When Mac sat silently, still writing notes, her exhaustion turned to impatience. “Mac!” she demanded. “I need to hear what you are thinking.”

Still, Mac did not respond. He didn’t even lift his head to acknowledge Jen. He was scribbling at a furious pace, seemingly oblivious to everything in the world outside of his thoughts. When her impatience turning to anger, Jen stood and marched over to Mac as he sat at the desk in the corner of the hotel room. She reached to grab the pages of notes Mac was writing when, her hand inches away from the top of the desk, Mac said, “This is everything we need to know. Everything about Hell, demons, angels. About being senders. It’s everything we need to know for the rest of our lives. Jen,” he said as he stood, his eyes moist and heavy with tears, “This has been waiting for us to find it for our entire lives. Not just you and me, but all the other senders who are alive today or who ever were alive. Jen,” he said, taking her by her arms and staring into her captivating green eyes, “you are brilliant.” Mac gently pulled Jen into his arms and held her tightly.
 

After several seconds, she pulled away, and said, “I’m glad you seem so happy about everything, but I’d sure like to know what everything means.”

“I’m not happy about everything, Jen,” he said. “It’s not all lollipops and rainbows. We are going to have plenty of extremely difficult times ahead of us, not to mention what we need to do tomorrow. But I know what we are now and what we really need to do.”

“Are you going to tell me or do I need to figure it all out on my own?”

“Sit down. I’ll get started.”

“In the beginning, there were twelve. And from these twelve, generations sprung. Always, they numbered twelve. When one left, another was called. The twelve will not know when one is called nor when another is replaced.”

“They are not angels but plucked from humanity, called to defend the Earth from Lucifer and his demons.”

“Always will their number be twelve until the end of times. They that remain will know when the end of times has been set in motion, for there will be wars among men, the earth will shake, plagues will be released and battles between the demon legion will begin. When the last of the twelve passes, the Earth will be consumed.”

“Lucifer was cast out from the heavens by his own choosing and rules the oceans and the depths of despair. Lucifer is eternally tormented with his choice, his grief, his regret. He leads his demons though they know not of his plight. They follow only their own beliefs of what their choices have created and live in constant fear of feeling hope, love. They are twisted in doubt, pain, for their infected souls know of their misguided decisions and seek only to rid themselves of knowing what their choice has delivered.”

“They who are sent will not seek out demons for demons must seek them out. For the twelve serve as earthly reminders of what the demons chose against and cannot bear the knowing, the recollection, the promise they know still remains.”

“One by one, the twelve will fall, until there are but two remaining. Both will have their immortal souls scattered like chaff to the winds. Both will seek and will be sought. Both will hold the balance of good and evil in their souls.”

“They that remain will find their strength from each other. The called will be called from their mothers and their fathers.”

“The two will be tempted. Lied to. Deceived. Always must they keep their guard, for demons, evil spirits, will hunt them, watch them and attempt to know them.”

“And in the final battle, the Lord’s judgement will be cast down upon all. The two shall either call forth the end or give hope and promise, calling back their number to twelve.”

<<<<>>>>

There was more but only those nine parts stood out.
 

“Strange how you only wrote notes about those nine statements,” Jen said.

“Why is that strange?”

“Nine statements, nine senders left. That is unless your information is old and we are members of an even smaller minority.”

Mac stood and began pacing the hotel room, plowing his hand through his thinning hair. Jen sat and began reading the scribbled notes Mac had written. “Your handwriting is awful,” she said then turned her attention to reading the words on the pillowcases. As she read them, Jen noticed that the words began to fade. After her eyes finished one word and moved to the next, the previous word seem to simply dissolve. “Mac, you better see this,” she called.

Mac stopped his pacing, turned and appeared utterly unconcerned with what was happening with the pillowcases. “Good thing I took notes,” he said. “I think it was waiting for you to read everything before it, well, before the words went back where they came from.” He picked up the Bible that was still laying on top of the bed, opened it, and saw a few of the blank spaces slowly be replaced with words. “This is really creeping me out,” he said.
 

“Me, too,” Jen said. “Kind of wish my Kindle just started flashing word patterns again.”

Jen read slowly and carefully, taking her own notes after reading each line. When her eyes reached the final word—which happened to be “ending”—the pillowcases were back to their brilliant whiteness.

“The bible’s all filled back up,” Mac said.

“I feel like I’m living in a cross between a horror novel and a sci-fi book.”

“Only you and I are the main characters and, if we fail, the world ends. Besides that, yeah, we are in a horror slash sci-fi novel.”

Before her memories of what she had just read began to cloud up, Jen continued writing her own notes. Her hand danced across the note paper in furious fits. When she had finished, she let out a long sigh. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“If you’re thinking we need to get more beer, then yes,” Mac said.

“Actually, I was thinking that Henry is probably coming for us and the other senders.”

Mac said, “So, the more beer idea is out?”

“Probably, though I am not suggesting that I dislike the idea. If Henry’s looking for us and the other senders, I think we need to prepare ourselves. Get to someplace that he can’t surprise us. Somewhere where we will have the upper hand.”

“The high ground,” Mac said.

“Right,” Jen replied. “And, unless there’s something about finding the other senders scribbled in your chicken scratch, we probably should figure out how we find the other seven. If they don’t know what’s going on, we may be the final two way too soon.”

“We found each other when we were trying to send back a demon,” Mac offered. “Except you didn’t know that’s what you were there to do. For you, it’s like destiny took over and dragged you there. I was there, knowing what I was there for. Granted, I was there under false assumptions, but, still, I was doing what senders do.”