The Redeemed (4 page)

He toweled himself dry and stepped into the bedroom naked.

“You look scared, even frantic, panicky.”

Her wide eyes blinked rapidly. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she pulled on the handcuffs that locked her wrists to the metal headboard of the bed.

“Withdrawal,” he said softly, trying to sound sympathetic. “You’re going through withdrawal.” He walked around the bed and examined her womanhood. “I’ll be busy today. When I’m done, and your withdrawal symptoms have minimized, we’ll spend the weekend together.” He crawled onto the bed, his body hovering over hers, his member dangling down far enough to caress her labia. “We’ll have a good time without the effects of drugs. How does that sound?”

She twisted her head back and forth, moaning behind the gag, bucking her hips.

He lifted off her, picked up his clothes and began to dress.

“No more streets for you, Eve. The rest of your life starts now. I am your savior.” He slipped a T-shirt over his head. “The men who offered you security, those pimps you paid, they won’t see you again. They’ll have to live off the backs of other whores. Trust me. You’ll like your new life. It’ll be warm, comfortable, and safe. Your new life will be nothing like the streets. And as much sex as I can physically have in a day will be nothing to the ten or fifteen random men you were sleeping with daily. Can’t you see? I’m doing you a favor here.”

She moaned and kicked her feet.

“It does no good to fight it. Soon enough you’ll be quiet on the inside. You’ll sleep. From here on in we’ll be like Adam and Eve in the Garden. Just you and me. Naked. No sin. Unless, of course, you tempt me.” He pointed at the large cage that housed his precious beast on the floor in the far corner. “That’s an African Rock Python. He’s just over twenty feet in length and weighs north of one hundred and fifty pounds.” He looked back at Eve. “Those things eat monkeys, crocodiles, dogs, goats, pigs and even deer. If you tempt me, as Eve tempted Adam, I may have to release the snake.” He spread his hands out wide. “It couldn’t be a complete Garden of Eden without the snake, now could it?” He lowered his hands to his side. “You’re what, a hundred pounds wet? Those things,” he pointed at the cage again, “have been known to kill ten-year olds. I read once that an African Rock had the capacity to eat a human. You wouldn’t want that serpent released in here while you’re tied up. He’s seriously hungry. Hasn’t eaten in over a month.”

Mike grinned and turned away to slip into his shoes. For today’s kill, his job was done. The room downstairs was ready. Asbestos lined the walls and every inch of the room had been sealed. The sulfuric acid sat calmly, almost innocently, in its holding tank and the cyanide pellets awaited their mission. Everything he needed to place Father George into his homemade gas chamber was set up. Within hours, the world would be missing another priest.

At the door, he turned back to Evelyn.

“Be back shortly. Don’t go anywhere.” He laughed at his own joke.

The look on Eve’s face was one of strain and effort. This was good. Suffering was good. It was what Lucifer had asked of him. Cause the most suffering he could and send the vilest to Hell. The first battle that ever took place was in Heaven when Satan was cast out and the angel had fallen. The last battle would take place on Earth with Satan and Mike at the helm.

He closed the door and headed downstairs. The day was rife with possibilities and exciting adventures. The thought of watching Father George die made him feel like a kid again. His parents had been extremely religious. Fundamentally so. When they caught him hurting a frog, one of God’s creatures, they did not spare the rod. When they caught him reading, they did not spare the rod. And when they caught him using the Lord’s name in vain, they did not spare the rod.

Mike wouldn’t spare the rod either.

Satan’s staff was long and barbed and it spared no one.

Just the way Mike liked it.

Chapter 5

Sarah snapped awake and shook off the vestiges of her sister’s presence. The pen had made marks and indentations across the lower part of the wall. The first word was barely legible, but the second word could be read easily.

“Mercedes?” Sarah asked out loud. “What could Vivian mean? And why not give me a message when I’m more prepared to take it?” She turned to Parkman. “One day Vivian’s going to have to let me in on how much freedom she has in offering me information. It would be so much better to just spell everything out instead of this.”

Parkman scanned the message. He knelt down and ran his fingers along the wall where the pen had tried to make a mark but missed. He looked at it from the left and then the right. After a moment, he turned the small desk lamp on and moved it to the edge of the desk. The lamp highlighted the rest of the words by casting a shadow where the ink failed.

“Okay,” Parkman said. “I’m reading Mercedes, Bing’s parking lot. Sunset. 101 2-3. Then there’s an A and the start of another letter. You seeing the same?”

Sarah nodded. “But what’s after the A? Another word or just a letter?”

Parkman pointed at her computer. “Do you mind?”

“No, go ahead.”

She looked over his shoulder as he typed in a search for Bing’s in Los Angeles.

When the screen filled, she asked, “Which one do we go to? There’s so many.” She stood back and stared at the message on the wall, frustrated. “Vivian, couldn’t you be more specific?”

Parkman clicked between the Bing’s restaurants on the screen. “Maybe it has something to do with the sunset.” He rolled his toothpick to the other side of his mouth.

Sarah’s stomach grumbled. She hadn’t eaten breakfast yet and with the talk of Bing’s restaurants, she started thinking about eggs and bacon. “Maybe at sunset we are to go to a Bing’s and locate a Mercedes. Could be the killer’s car is a Mercedes.”

Parkman typed hard on the keyboard. The screen changed again.

For a brief moment, the word
sunset
rolled through her mind as if someone else thought it. Like a part of Vivian’s essence lingered in her consciousness. After Vivian had channeled through Sarah’s body in the basement of that house in Canada, Sarah had felt closer to Vivian. Like they both occupied space under Sarah’s skin. It was creepy, but at the same time, welcoming, comforting.

To take over her consciousness and perform her automatic writing, Vivian already had some kind of control over Sarah. In the past there had been times when Vivian had manipulated Sarah’s muscles. Once she made Sarah trip and fall in Italy which had saved her life. Channeling messages through Sarah was one thing. Actively taking over Sarah’s body was stuff of horror movies.

Maybe the Catholic Church could perform an exorcism on me.

“Parkman, the word sunset has nothing to do with the sun.”

“What?”

“Check how many Bing’s there are on Sunset Boulevard.”

He brought up their webpage and clicked on the store locator link. “Looks like at least two.”

“Is there one on Sunset Boulevard near the Hollywood Freeway?”

“Why the Hollywood Freeway?”

“Just look.”

After a moment of searching, he turned in his seat and stared at her. “There is.”

“The Hollywood Freeway is the 101. See,” she pointed at the wall, “the message says Bing’s parking lot. Then it says Sunset, and then 101. That’s the Bing’s we need.” She thought about it again while Parkman stared at the wall. “Could the 2-3 with the A after it mean, 2:00 to 3:00 am?”

Parkman clapped his hands. “You got it. That’s what it looks like it says to me.”

“Perfect.” Sarah hopped on her good foot until she got to the bed where she plopped down. “I’m going to get dressed. After that, I want to eat. Then I want to do more research on the Catholic Church and take a nap. I’m thinking it’ll be a long night.”

“What do you expect to find tonight?”

“I have no idea but I do know we’re looking for a Mercedes. Inside that car, we’ll probably find the madman Detective Hirst is investigating or we’ll find another body.”

“Shit.” Parkman got up and walked to the door. “We should be armed.”

Sarah nodded. “Can you handle that?”

“I’ll try. Hirst’ll be no help. We’re supposed to be leaving.”

“Do your best, Parkman. We need weapons.”

He opened the door and exited without another word.

Sarah looked up at the ceiling of the hotel room. “Vivian, you have got to make this easier.”

She slipped out of her track pants gingerly, mindful of her broken ankle, feeling every bit a stranger in her own body.

Another presence lingered in her mental shadows. Vivian remained close. So close that Sarah could almost smell her. Like they were twins inhabiting the same body. The only creepy parts were the thoughts and memories that popped up from time to time. Ones that weren’t Sarah’s. Ones of a different date and time.

An image of her parents had formed in her mind two days ago when her parents were in their twenties. A time before Sarah was born.

Goose bumps accompanied that image. It was impossible for Sarah to have seen her parents, listened to them, walked with them, in those years.

Only Vivian knew Caleb and Amelia then. Only Vivian had those thoughts and memories.

But why would Vivian’s human presence be coming through to Sarah? Could it be a result of what happened in Canada when Vivian had completely taken over Sarah’s body?

If so, what would happen to Sarah if Vivian did it again? Would she lose more of herself? Could Vivian ultimately take over and lock Sarah out of her own body in some way?

She shuddered at the thought.

“Just help me stop this killer, Vivian. Then carry on. Sanity is something I kind of enjoy having.”

Sarah was afraid for the first time what her gift might be doing to her.

Could Vivian’s purpose pull Sarah out of depression all those years ago, effectively saving her life, only to kill her on the inside because she had channeled through her too often?

“Only time will tell,” she whispered to the empty room.

Chapter 6

Father Adams examined the night stars for a sign from God. When none came, he donned his black hat and gripped the door handle of the church. From just outside the door, he could hear Father George offering a sermon on sin. It was a good sermon. One Father Adams had performed himself over the years. He entered the church, taking pains to remain as silent as possible.

The church had a good crowd as Father George was popular with the congregation. He was gentle, kind and good with kids. Perhaps a little too good. Ultimately Father George had been shuffled around the Catholic Churches of America until he landed in the big city of Los Angeles under the watchful eye of Father Adams. Today was a day Father Adams dreaded as he needed to give Father George a sermon of his own.

“God is ready to heal those who sincerely wish to amend their lives,” Father George said from the pulpit. “But he won’t take pity on the obstinate sinner.”

Father George’s eyes stopped on Adams. He paused, nodded, and then continued.

“The Lord pardons sins but he cannot pardon those who are determined to offend him.” He raised his hand, pointing skyward. “Nor can we demand from God a reason why he pardons one a hundred sins, and takes others out of life and sends them to Hell after three or four sins.” He lowered his arm and gripped the sides of the pulpit with both hands. “He who receives pardon, says St. Augustine, is pardoned through the pure mercy of God. They who are chastised are justly punished.”

Father Adams leaned against one of the pillars until Father George finished. He watched as the priest walked some of his congregation to the doors and whispered goodbyes to the lot of them. Father Adams involved himself with some of the people filing out of the church and remained patient, as the Lord would expect of a man in his position.

After a time, the big doors shut on the front of the church with only a few remaining to pray silently.

Father George strode over to address Adams. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this evening’s visit?”

“I wanted to have a quick word with you.” Adams turned, clasped his hands behind his back. “Walk with me.”

When they reached the back of the church, Father Adams pushed open the door of Father George’s office. Moments later they were alone.

“Quite the sermon this evening,” Adams said.

“I was pleased with the turnout,” George replied. “My sermon on sin has always been my favorite. Now, Father Adams, what can I help you with?”

Adams stood by the door as George walked around and took a seat behind his desk.

“As you’re probably aware,” Adams started, “five of our fellow clergymen have been sent home to God recently.”

Father George nodded, a grim expression on his face.

“What you might not know is that these men were brought here by the Vatican.”