Rise of the Beast (22 page)

It had been a second heart attack that had killed Claire. Leland hadn’t even been aware of the first until just yesterday. Apparently, it had occurred right before his wedding. Yet, despite it, she had come, all smiles. It had been Julio who had called 911 during her first heart attack. His quick actions might well have been the reason she had survived that one. She had been alone during the second. Julio had found her that following morning, sitting in front of her computer. That was three days ago.

During the brief investigation, no one had attached much significance to it. Claire had given him a key to her house. That certainly said something about her trust in this young man. He visited her nearly every day, bringing her groceries and studying the Bible with her. A certain Detective Strom over in Manhattan had vouched for Julio’s character, too. Julio had aspirations of eventually going to the police academy. No, it was just a matter of coincidence.

Following the service, there had been a reception at his grandmother’s church. Leland and Krissie hadn’t stayed at the reception very long. Neither of them were really up to it.

The odd events surrounding her death were still swirling through Leland’s head as he and Krissie stepped through the door of their condo on Central Park West. It had been a rough three days.

Krissie placed her arm around her husband. “You need to get some sleep,” she said. “You’ve hardly closed your eyes since you got back. You’re going to see her again; you know that. Lusan said it.”

“Yes,” said Leland, “Lusan said it, so it has to be right.”

“You doubt it?” asked Krissie, surprise in her voice.

“No, I don’t doubt it,” replied Leland. “She walked with the Lord during her whole life. Now she really walks with Him. I don’t doubt that.”

“Maybe you could go and talk to Lusan,” suggested Krissie. “Maybe he could help.”

“I’m sure he’d try,” replied Leland. “No, I just need some time, that’s all.” There was a pause. “I need to check my email. I haven’t checked it in days.”

Leland logged onto his email account. There were several pages of messages. Many were sympathy emails from his friends. It was when he scrolled down that a chill ran up his spine. The title of the email was, “what I know now,” and the sender was Claire James. Tears appeared in his eyes as he double-clicked to open it. It was blank, totally blank. He looked at the date and time it was sent, 11:03
P.M
. four days ago.

The range of emotions that ran through his mind were indescribable. What had happened? He tried every trick he knew to retrieve the message; nothing worked. He was on his feet and heading for the door in seconds.

“What happened?” asked Krissie, as Leland practically stormed across the living room.

“I’ve got to go to Brooklyn, to my grandmother’s house,” said Leland, hardly turning toward her.

“Can I come too?” she asked.

Leland stopped, finally gaining control of his emotions. “Yes, that might be best.”

“I’ll drive,” said Krissie, grabbing her purse and heading for the door.

On the way, Leland told Krissie about the email from his grandmother. “The computer from which an email is sent always saves a copy of that email. At least that’s the way I set up my grandmother’s system.”

With late afternoon traffic being what it was, it took about an hour for Leland and Krissie to reach his grandmother’s house. Leland used his key to go through the front door. The last time he had been here his grandmother was alive. It was really tough on him to see this place right now, to maintain his normally cool exterior. It all looked exactly the same. He made his way up to his grandmother’s bedroom with Krissie following close behind.

He sat at the computer, turned it on, nothing happened. He checked under the desk to discover that the computer was unplugged.

“That’s odd,” said Leland. “Grandma kept the computer running all the time.”

“Maybe one of the investigators unplugged it,” suggested Krissie. “It would make sense to turn off things like that, wouldn’t it?”

Leland nodded. “Of course. What am I thinking of?”

He reached down below the table, plugged in the computer, turned on the power strip, and booted the computer. After a few seconds, the message, “no hard drive,” appeared on the screen.

“What?” said Leland, turning off the computer. He reached into the drawer of the desk and came up with a small screwdriver. He opened the back of the computer. Sure enough, the message was right; the drive had been completely removed.

“The police wouldn’t have removed the drive during their investigation, would they?” asked Krissie.

“I wouldn’t think so,” replied Leland. “Something is very wrong here.”

Leland and Krissie spent the next 20 minutes looking about the house. All was in order. There was no sign of a forced entry. Everything was organized just the way Grandma Claire liked it.

“I could find out what Julio knows about all of this,” said Leland.

“Do you think he might have taken the drive?” asked Krissie.

“No,” replied Leland, “I really don’t think so. Then again, I really don’t know him that well.”

“Lusan says he quit the organization just after we left for our honeymoon,” said Krissie. “So did Karina. I get the feeling that it wasn’t exactly on the most pleasant terms.”

“And they were both sitting with my grandmother at the wedding,” said Leland.

“You think your grandmother convinced them to leave?” asked Krissie.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” said Leland. “But how did they meet her? That’s what I don’t understand.”

Krissie just shook her head. “Julio gave you his key to her house after the funeral, at the reception didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he did,” replied Leland. “I probably should have asked him a few questions about what happened then, but I was really out of it. I remember him saying something about her saving him from Hell. That was an odd comment, but
I didn’t pursue it. Now, I think maybe I should have. I remember that he seemed a bit nervous around me.”

“I guess you can’t blame him,” noted Krissie. “I mean, things being the way they are.”

“I suppose, things being the way they were,” replied Leland.

“So, what are you going to do?” asked Krissie, as Leland locked up the front door on his way out.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “There is something really wrong here. Maybe I’m just not thinking straight. I need a few days. I don’t want to go off and do something stupid.”

They walked arm and arm to the car. Leland would try to sort things out when he got home.

C
HAPTER
9

Lusan gazed out upon the group of humans, bat-winged demons, and barely detectable disembodied entities gathered before him. Here in his large conference room turned audience hall on the 32nd floor of the Davidson Building, he could be himself, as could his followers.

In a way, this audience chamber was not that different from the one in Lusan’s dark domain. It was not nearly so large or ornate, of course. He had neither his robes nor his scepter, but that was OK. He wore a finely crafted, black business suit, one that was tailor-made for him. He sat in an expensive, black executive’s chair behind his hardwood desk, and not upon a golden throne, but that was all right too. In this society, it served the same purpose and commanded the same sort of reverence, even fear. That was, after all, the whole point.

The agenda was full this morning, as it was every morning. His agents in the United States and across the globe had been making dynamic strides. For the moment, this was the hub of the operation, though that might soon change.

A young, heavily tattooed youth bowed low before Lusan. There was a terrible void in his eyes, a sort of soulless expanse that is all that remains when a downtrodden soul was locked up in the prison of his own mind. He was but one of four men and two women who stood before their master this Friday morning, all prisoners of the demons who ruled them.

“My lord,” he began, “we searched through the home of this Claire James from top to bottom. Any evidence of what she knew about us has been removed.”

“She had a considerable amount of time to communicate that knowledge to others,” replied Lusan. “Still, who would believe her? She is but an old woman. Most humans tend not to value the words of their elders.”

“She managed to send an email message to her grandson on the night of her death,” noted a middle-aged man to the first’s left. “I was able to delete its contents, but not the email itself.”

“That might arouse Leland’s suspicions,” noted Lusan. “Still, there is nothing we can do about that now. I fear his grandmother has planted the seed of doubt within his mind. Let us hope that it does not germinate.”

“It would be unfortunate if we had to terminate his employment,” noted Duras. “He is not such a terrible sort, for a human that is. As for his new wife, she is really quite agreeable. I find it hard to believe that I would ever say such a thing about a human.”

“Don’t become too attached to them,” cautioned Lusan. “The day is coming when we must cast them away into the fire, like the filthy rags that they are.”

Duras nodded, but said nothing further.

“However, we have a problem,” noted another. “The hard drive of the old woman’s computer is missing. Someone has taken it.”

“Perhaps it was Julio,” suggested Lusan.

“We went through his apartment and found nothing,” noted another man. “We went through it quite thoroughly.”

“I wish we could just kill him to be on the safe side,” said the tattooed youth.

“But it is not possible,” noted Lusan. “The Father has made that quite clear. There is a hedge of protection around him.

“Could our program be hurt in any way by its contents?” asked Lusan.

“I can’t be certain,” replied the man. “Hopefully, we don’t find out.”

“I’ll be going on the road in another two weeks,” noted Lusan. “I will be speaking at auditoriums and even stadiums throughout the country bringing my message to the masses. I do not want rumor and innuendo detracting from my words. I must appear different, free from scandal. For a long time I have
sent out minions into the field before me to tempt the ministers among the children of God. They have made these high-profile ministers of the Gospel their prime targets. So easy to tempt, they have been. Even you would be amazed, my friends. An affair here, the lure of wealth and power there, has unraveled their character. They even resort to tricks, to theatrics, to beguile their followers—to lead them to believe that they can perform miracles even as the spirit of God has departed them. They appeal to the greed that is within all people to lure them into supporting their false ministries. I shall allow them to weave their webs of deceit. Then I expose them for what they are, mere humans whose love for God is not so great after all as their love for the things of the world. No, I must appear different.”

“And you will, my lord,” proclaimed Duras. “You offer humanity what they might call the real thing, not just trickery. They want so much to believe in something, some power beyond themselves. You are that power, my lord.”

Lusan chuckled. “Yes, I am that, aren’t I? After this tour of the nation, a lot more people will know it.” He turned to one of the pale skinned demons cloaked in black. “And what of our brethren who still seek entrance into this world? Has any progress been made in opening the gate for them?”

The gaunt figure stepped forward. He looked like a man in his eighties, thin of face and not in particularly good health. Yet this was an illusion. Health was an irrelevant term when it came to describing an immortal. The minions of Satan had long used this form when appearing in public. In Hell, this visage had served the purpose of striking dread in the hearts of humans. It reminded them of death and its dire consequences—their sentencing to the very heart of the realm of Outer Darkness. When it came to appearances, old habits were hard to break.

“A human filled with the Father’s divine Spirit continues to block the only easily accessible avenue of passage into this world, an oil well in the Middle East,” announced the dark being.