Killer's Quest: A Dark Crossroads Urban Fantasy, page 7
"You mind a quick word?" asked Ellmar.
Cain glanced at Dex and then stepped over into a corner in the basement. Ellmar moved in close and kept his voice low. "I know the stories about you. From when I did my time in Hell."
"Yeah, and?"
"Were you really as vicious as they say?"
"I don't know exactly what they say, but I'd wager that the answer to that's yes," said Cain.
"Okay, well like I said before, Kel's a sweet kid. They don't deserve what's happened to them."
"What's your point?"
"My point is that you're gonna find the people who grabbed Kel. And when you do, I want you to do me a favor and do what you do best." Ellmar's eyes had a steely determination to them.
"You know what you're asking of me, right?" said Cain.
Ellmar nodded quickly. "Yeah, I do. So what do you say? Can I have your word on this?"
Cain took a breath. Mostly, he tried to keep the urges of the Mark at bay or satisfy them through some other method. But if Ellmar was right and Kelryn had been the victim of some bigoted humans trying to do them harm just because they were different, it certainly made a compelling argument.
"Yeah, I can do that."
11
The Seattle megachurch was packed to capacity. Murmurs echoed among the crowd as they surrounded an empty stage, waiting for the main event to begin. And then, all talk quieted as the house lights dimmed. The opening chords of Christian-themed rock music started to fill the silence and colored laser lights passed over the stage in alternating patterns. An announcement echoed over the music.
"Now, hold your hands up to the Lord and welcome his humble servant, the inimitable Reverend Robert Lynch!"
The crowd erupted in cheers as a panel opened in the stage floor and a platform was raised. Robert Lynch was a white man in his forties, with perfectly set sandy brown hair. He had bright blue eyes that almost twinkled and made all who he looked at feel as if he were staring into their souls. He wasn't dressed in the standard vestments of a priest or reverend--there were no robes nor clerical collars. Not even the standard suit and tie that many of his contemporary pastors donned. Instead, he was dressed simply in jeans and a tight black shirt that clung to his surprisingly impressive physique.
He wore a wireless microphone and held his arms out to the side, a broad smile plastered on his face. He waved his hands towards him, encouraging the audience to give him more applause and cheers. As it built to a crescendo, Lynch cut them off by speaking.
"Praaaaaaise God!"
There were whoops and hollers. The music stopped and the applause slowly died down. Lynch started walking around the stage, calling out to some of the people within the first few rows.
"It's a beautiful day today out here, ladies and gentlemen. Just a beautiful day. God has blessed us on this day, as he blesses us every single day."
He pointed to one person in the front row. "Good morning to you, sir. Where are you from?"
"Des Moines!" the older man shouted back.
"You came all the way out here from Iowa? Really? That's wonderful, bless you, brother. Bless you for embarking on this pilgrimage." Lynch then went to another part of the stage and pointed at a woman. "And you, miss? Where did the Lord bring you from?"
"Houston!"
"Whoo! The Lord has certainly brought us many brothers and sisters from all over our great land, hasn't he?" Lynch moved back to the center of the stage. "And I'm glad he has, my friends. Because I'm here to tell you that God has an important mission for all of us.
"You see, our country is in a state of crisis right now. The cultural Marxists that have infected Hollywood, our federal government, even our local schools...their sinister agenda is starting to come to light."
The crowd grew quiet, but they hung on every single word.
"Now many will tell you that they're working on behalf of their own selfish interests. That they're...they're on a quest to pervert the word of God and sully all that America stands for! That their ultimate end goal is to turn America into another failed communist state, no different from North Korea or China."
Some boos started to erupt from the crowd. Lynch waited until the boos subsided and then he continued.
"And they're right...but it's so much worse than that. You see, they aren't only keen to make this country unrecognizable, but they want to take it further than that. Because just as we answer to a higher power, they answer to a lower one."
The spotlight dimmed a few shades as Lynch knelt on the stage. His head was bowed and he paused for effect, then he looked up and said one, simple word: "Satan."
There were gasps and boos from the audience. Lynch sprung back up and started moving about the stage.
"Yes, and I don't mean that as a euphemism, ladies and gentlemen. I'm not speaking in figurative language or metaphors or whatever other fancy words they use in those ivory tower universities," said Lynch. "I am talking about the very literal, very real, very evil, and of course, very dangerous Satan. The fallen one himself, the King of Hell.
"He exists, I promise you that. I have had counsel with God's angels. They have spoken to me. Not in a dream or in a vision or anything like that. They were standing right in front of me and they talked to me, just the same as I'm here talking with you right now. And they told me all about Satan and how his minions have infected this world."
Lynch paused to allow the audience to react negatively to that statement.
"Y'know, I look at the world today and I wonder how it got so bad. I turn on the TV and I see demons portrayed as heroes. I see perverts and groomers broadcasting their filth directly to our children. And I see our fake news media egging them on. Encouraging them! They've stolen words like 'equality' and 'compassion' from our dictionary and twisted them to fit their own godless agenda!"
The jeers increased. Lynch was happy to hear them because he knew from experience that his words were moving them, priming them for action.
"None of this is accidental, brothers and sisters. No, this is part of a grand, sinister design. An architecture of pure evil designed to corrupt good souls so they can be dragged down to Hell when their time comes. What they call 'lifestyle differences' or 'identity affirming,' well these are the real euphemisms. What they really mean is 'a slur against God.' Because God has told us what is acceptable and what's not. He laid down very clear and very specific rules for us to follow.
"You see, it's not humans giving us these messages. In reality, they are pure demons spawned straight from the pit of Hell! And Satan is smart, make no mistake about it. He knows that if we were watching pure demons in their true, disgusting visage giving us these messages, we would say 'get away from me!' He knows this. And so, he's decided to trick us.
"Oh sure, they may look human. They may seem like they're just innocent people who just march to the beat of their own drum. But I promise you, they are not. They can make themselves look like us so that they can corrupt and damn our souls."
Some of the crowd were incensed. Others were frightened. Lynch continued.
"Don't despair, my brothers and sisters. The angels have given us weapons with which to fight these demons. On this day, you have all been baptized into the war between good and evil! Once we finish up here today, everyone in the audience will have an opportunity to sign up and do their part. And those of you watching at home, you can just go to purefireministries.com or use your phone to scan the QR code on your screen right now. The easiest thing you can do to help us is to donate money. You can also become a Purefire Missionary and join us in warning others.
"But I know for some of you, this isn't enough. But I promise you, we have more opportunities. I won't go into the details here, but please make sure you indicate on the form when you sign up that you're interested in doing more in the fight for good and evil.
"Brothers and sisters, the fight for our salvation begins today!"
The audience reacted with uproarious applause.
Robert Lynch stepped off the platform as it lowered down to the basement level of the Purefire megachurch. An assistant handed him a towel that he used to wipe the sweat and makeup from his face and then followed up with a bottle of water. He twisted the cap off and eagerly drank from it.
"Great sermon today, Reverend," she said.
"I know, Janice." He handed her back the water and towel, almost tossing them at her, and started walking down the hall. "What's the rest of the day look like?"
"You've got another sermon at four this afternoon and we're starting to get numbers in on the live cast. Over a million views and counting."
"Good, good."
"You're starting to get on the national media's radar, too. There have been interview requests from a number of networks."
"Start with the ones most receptive to our message--Fox, OANN, Newsmax."
"What about some of the others? CNN and NBC have both sent out requests."
"Ignore them. As we get bigger, they'll be more interested in having us on."
"Also, you've gotten dinner invitations from some political groups. Word is they might be interested in you running for office."
Lynch scoffed. "I've got a big enough megaphone without the need of a political stage and less oversight. Tell them we're not interested."
"Are you sure you want to just close the door completely?"
Lynch paused on his walk and rubbed his chin. "Hmm, good point."
"What if we tell them that 'for the time being, the Reverend is too focused on his ministry to even consider political aspirations.'"
Lynch nodded and wagged his finger. "Yes, that's good. Go with that."
"Also, one more thing--Brother Mercer is waiting for you in your office."
Lynch smiled. "Wonderful. Tell him I'll meet with him in a moment."
Lynch went into his dressing room to change out of his clothes and take a quick shower. He put on sweatpants and a Liberty University t-shirt. A door in the corner of the dressing room led into his adjoining office. A large cross hung on the wall behind his desk. One wall was lined with bookshelves. There were many books by Lynch himself. Books by others in the conservative Christian movement were also present, some of the authors recent, some long dead. There were also several different Bibles and books on biblical studies, as well as several books devoted to demonology.
The other wall was a showcase for Lynch's degrees and photos of him with other famous people. Some of them were priests and reverends, but there were also conservative politicians, pundits, and actors.
In front of the long desk were two chairs. One of them was occupied by a tall man with a crew cut and a bushy mustache. He rose when Lynch entered the room and offered his hand.
"Brother Mercer, so glad you're here," said Lynch as he shook Mercer's hand.
John Mercer smiled, but it was almost imperceptible beneath his mustache. He sat back down and Lynch took the tall executive chair behind his desk.
"Tell me what you've got," said Lynch.
Mercer took his phone from his jacket pocket and reviewed the information on it. "Some new specimens. Most from the Seattle area, but a few from Portland and surrounding areas, too."
"Portland, eh? Good, our reach is growing."
"So far, we're looking at maybe twenty ready for the big event," said Mercer.
Lynch sat back in his chair. "Twenty...hmm..."
"Isn't that the goal you wanted?" asked Mercer.
"Yeah, it is. But now I'm starting to wonder if we should maybe push it up to twenty-five. That number's got a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
Mercer nodded and made a note in his phone. "Okay, twenty-five."
"That's not going to be a problem, is it?"
Mercer shook his head. "Oh no, shouldn't be a problem at all. I'll let the network know. I believe they've already got a few on their radar, but they just decided to hold back for now."
"Excellent. And the guests?"
"We're looking at ten participants in total and that includes yourself. So each man could conceivably take home two."
"And the location is ready?"
"Yessir, I saw to it personally. The only thing we need is those extra five you mentioned."
"We're kicking off next weekend. You're absolutely certain you'll have them by that time?"
"Of course, sir. Once more, it won't be a problem," said Mercer.
Lynch leaned back in his chair and a smile spread across his face. "Perfect. Thank you very much, Brother Mercer. Your work has certainly helped to advance our righteous cause."
12
The Sweet Dreams Motel was located just off I-5 outside Portland. They offered budget lodging without too many questions, which was exactly the kind of place that Black Lodge agents tended to favor. After Cain and Dex left the support group, they received a text from Maya telling them to meet her in room #10.
Maya had taken a ride-share after she finished at the bank and was already waiting in the room when they arrived. She let them into the small motel room. The amenities were basic--a pair of twin beds, a bathroom, a small dresser with a TV, and a table in the corner with two cushioned chairs.
"We all staying here together?" asked Cain.
"No way." Maya gestured to the three keys over on the table. "Dex and I like our space and I figured you were the same way, what with your current living situation."
Cain mumbled something that vaguely sounded appreciative and Maya grinned at the attempt.
"What did you find out?" she asked, switching to business mode as she sat at the table.
"Unfortunately, not much." Dex had shifted from his human form, returning to his more natural dryad state. He sat on one of the beds and stretched his neck out. "Kelryn wasn't the social type so no one knew if they had any enemies or threats. Essentially the same thing their neighbors had said."
"I didn't fare much better. I went through the security footage and there was a dark van that was caught in the corner of the frame, but not much else. Seemed there might have been some quick movement across the screen at one point, but the camera wasn't fast enough to capture it."
"Any identifying information on the van?" asked Cain.
Maya shook her head. "No such luck. Too far away and at a bad angle to read the license plate number. Assuming it wasn't obscured in some way."
"So we're at an impasse for the time being," said Dex.
Maya sighed and nodded. "Seems like. I feel that van might be the best lead we've got so far, but it's a matter of trying to find where it might have gone. Based on the direction it was heading on the camera, we could probably see if there are some other potential locations it could've been captured on film. Maybe a gas station or something."
Cain leaned against the door and folded his arms. "Are you forgetting what Ellmar said?"
Maya looked from Cain to Dex with a raised brow. "Ellmar?"
"A demon who's part of Rufus's support group," said Dex.
"I thought you said the group didn't turn up much in the way of leads?"
"It's speculation at best," said Dex. "Ellmar said he'd heard rumors of supernaturals going missing in Seattle. But Rufus said there was no way to verify them. He wasn't sure how valid they actually were."
"Seems worth investigating at the very least," said Cain.
Dex glanced over at Cain. "If we ran after every unconfirmed rumor we've heard, we'd be too busy chasing our tails that we'd never be able to help anyone."
"He's got a point, Cain. Paranoia runs pretty heavy in these communities and there's a lot of speculation and innuendo that's based on nothing once you dig into it," said Maya. "Driving down to Seattle to investigate a pretty thin claim probably isn't the best use of our time."
"Then what do you suggest? Hopping from place to place hoping that someone maybe had a camera that caught sight of a nondescript van?"
Maya sighed. That also didn't seem to be a productive strategy. "We can keep trying to reach out to others in the area. Surely someone knows something. Maybe about these rumors Ellmar mentioned. Or maybe we can find someone in Seattle who can tell us more."
"What about a seance?" asked Dex.
"You must be joking," said Cain.
"You're an immortal who's been to both Hell and Purgatory, but a seance is a bridge too far for you?" asked Dex.
"That's not what I mean. Just wondering what are the chances that you summon a spirit who just so happened to witness Kelryn's kidnapping as opposed to one who's just bullshitting you to advance their agendas."
"Cain's right, if we just cast a wide net out there, very likely we could attract malevolent or mischievous spirits just trying to stir up trouble or use us as a means to an end," said Maya. "Besides, I'm not yet confident in my ability to run a seance on my own. Or what to do if it goes bad."
"Then the only thing we can do is continue asking questions and try to find that van," said Dex. "Tomorrow, we should return to Kelryn's building and expand our search. Canvass the entire neighborhood to see if anyone saw this van hanging around. We might get lucky."
"'Might get lucky.'" Cain scoffed. "And as you're waiting around to try to get lucky, what happens to Kel?"
"It sucks, I know," said Dex. "But if we go running off half-cocked, we could make things worse for them."
Cain grumbled. He was starting to feel his anger rising and the Mark was beginning to respond to it. That familiar itch beneath his skin returned and he tried scratching his arm where the Mark rested.
Maya watched Cain fidget and scratch, recalling the incident in Sameera's office. "It's been a long and mostly unfruitful day. How about we just relax for the night, get some food delivered, then we can turn in and approach this with rested eyes in the morning? Cain, what do you feel like eating?"
Cain continued scratching his arm. He had a definite hunger, but it wasn't for food. He needed to feed the Mark and nothing short of blood would satiate its need.
"I don't think I'm very hungry right now. I'll just go over to my room and see you both in the morning."
"Are you sure that's best?" asked Maya. "We could get to know each other a little bit more over some steak maybe?"
