To Kill a Priest - The Priors, Episode 1

TO KILL A PRIEST

BY

WESTON KINCADE

The Priors, Episode 1

The universe is much larger
than people think—with worlds spanning into infinity and human kind
evolving into everything from vampires to the unknown. Are you one
of these unlucky few?

Madelin is, and the
government black-op agency called PASTOR knows it. To free herself
from their clandestine clutches, she will have to trust an unknown
godfather… the only family she has left.

This book is a work of fiction. All
characters, events, dialogue and situations in this book are
fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely
coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce
this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

TO KILL A
PRIEST

BY

WESTON KINCADE

The Priors, Episode 1

Copyright 2014 by Weston Kincade

Visit:
Weston
Kincade
on his website for more
information.

* * *

Acknowledgements

I would like to give thanks to my editors: David
Chrisley, Tavis Potter, Jeremy Carter, Stephen Marshall, Scott
Rhine, and Katy Sozaeva. I also could not have written the series
without the support of my wife, friends, and family. Thank you for
everything.

Questionable Sanity

For the first few seconds of consciousness,
Daniel Robertson sat on the edge of his bed, staring at a ghastly
image in the full-length mirror. A child stared back through
eyeless sockets, its skin seared to a charred remnant of its former
self. Even in his waking moments, he saw the same nightmarish
memory. It was as though sleep hadn’t found him.

His digital clock glowed red, 5:04 a.m. The
nightmares never let him sleep through the night. He groped for the
most recent bottle he’d haphazardly tossed aside the night before,
but gave up when he spotted it on the floor.

His eyes returned to the wooden stand, but
the phantom child was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his own
depressed reflection peered back through eyes that spoke of more
pain than his age should have allowed. Years spent serving in the
Middle East had dried him out, so deep his bones even felt parched.
A large X marred his cheek, long-ago healed, but it was a reminder
of his inescapable past. Sweat swelled from nowhere and grudgingly
streamed down his forty-three-year-old, leathered face. At each
wrinkle there was a split-second hesitation.

Fragments of his past flickered through his
mind in a jumbled mess. Piecing them together while semi-conscious
was like constructing a jigsaw puzzle, but suddenly the sequence of
horrific events snapped into place like snapshots from someone
else’s travels. Glimpses of unwanted memories returned that even
alcohol couldn’t drive away.

“
As though I could ever
forget,” he muttered, thinking back to the horrifying
visage.

The dim glow of a streetlamp streamed
through the window and cast tall shadows across the room. His
yellow complexion melded with the aged bedsheets like a sickly
chameleon. Even in El Paso, a heat wave like this was unusual.

A slight breeze startled the curtains to
life, and newspaper clippings fluttered on the wall before
resigning to the push pins’ insistence. The sound drew his
attention, and he flicked on the nearest table lamp. It did little
to illuminate the room, but was enough to see by. The victims
stared out at him, their lives amounting to a small blurb. Above
their heads, the articles announced, ‘Man Found Dead in Car
Explosion,’ and ‘Woman Killed in Foiled Carjacking,’ among
others.

He knew them by heart. Each represented a
failed attempt to save his ex-employer’s targets. They were all
that remained of his recent pursuit for salvation. He sniffed at
the stale tobacco odor that permeated the apartment. It was as
though the small space could never get clean—a feeling he was quite
familiar with.

Lifting himself from the bed, Daniel
straightened and listened to the crack of his joints. He stretched
his arms and crept over to the open window, his skin masking the
muscular build beneath. With each footstep, the floor announced to
his neighbors that he was awake. It was a reminder of the innocent
lives he put in jeopardy by staying here for two months. Black
Force was after him, and they were just as well trained as he. His
old mercenary friends wouldn’t take hostages, and they had no
qualms with eliminating witnesses.

He needed to move on before he was found,
but it was difficult to give up such an ideal location. One reason
he chose this dilapidated part of the city was the unfriendliness
of the people. His weathered complexion helped him to blend in, and
the fact that he spoke not a word of Spanish afforded him his
solitude.

Daniel smiled as another faint breeze
drifted through the window. Seeing an oncoming car, he stepped out
of the moonlight and alongside the curtains. There was no need to
broadcast his presence. Watching the sidewalk below, his attention
was drawn to an interesting individual.

The man was different from other street
inhabitants headed to work. He casually strode under the
streetlamps holding an AK-47, but no one took notice. It was like
the armed man was invisible. He passed the taco vendor Daniel
frequented, and even Marco failed to greet him. The old food
salesman hailed everyone while grilling his morning breakfast
burritos, but somehow overlooked this man.

The oddity was barely visible at this
distance, but the early risers on the streets should have spotted
the gun. His clothes made him stand out like a leopard at a zebra
party. Through the sporadic flow of traffic, Daniel watched the
man’s russet coat and fedora bob behind passing cars. His checkered
golf pants shone under the streetlamps, and he walked with a slight
spring in his step. He was like an armed ostrich bobbing down the
city street, ready to go hunting.

Could he be with Black Force?

He doubted it, but what if
his old employer had hired someone new? It was odd for a mercenary
group to hire out to a competitor, but Daniel might have eluded
them too many times. Either way he needed answers to his questions,
and this guy might be his key. They were questions that had plagued
him for years, like,
What could he do to
stop Black Force or at least get them off his back?
He just wanted a chance at redemption before he
died. The pain he had caused was unforgettable, especially in his
dreams.

His hand unconsciously went to the three
scars crisscrossing his large bicep. He ran calloused fingers along
the smooth skin. It wasn’t until the last few years that he came to
care about others. Up to then, he did what he wanted and what he
was told without question. The scars were just a reminder of one of
his father’s early lessons on obedience—something his old boss and
good-old dad had in common. They didn’t take “no” for an
answer.

Losing sight of the man behind a group of
chatting women, Daniel was startled into action. He needed answers,
and this guy was his best chance. He searched the sidewalk for the
bounding pedestrian. Seconds later, the man appeared without having
lost a step. Anticipating another disappearance, Daniel gave the
street a cursory glance.

Satisfied, he threw a blue button-up over
his sweat-stained undershirt. It trailed behind him like a cape as
he crossed the room. His hand automatically grabbed his 9 mm off
the end table and tucked it into his pants before bringing the door
to a close.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he swept
through the first-floor foyer and onto the sidewalk. He searched
the opposing walkway for the brown fedora. The hat materialized
over a taxicab, and the yellow lamplight overhead illuminated its
creases like the golden eyes of an animal peering through the
shadows.

Daniel bolted across the
busy road and narrowly avoided a rusted-out farm truck. The only
warning of its approach was a deep, male voice crooning through its
open windows “Oh,
mi
amor
,” while a salsa melody plucked along
in the background.

At least I won’t be the
latest obituary in the Sun Herald,
he
thought as the guitar melody faded.

He leapt over the last car length of asphalt
and rushed up the sidewalk. Sidestepping the barrage of
pedestrians, he weaved through more oncoming groups and attempted
to gain on the odd man. Daniel pumped his muscled legs harder. He
threaded his way through the sporadic traffic while keeping the man
in sight. It still surprised him how many people walked to work on
this side of town. He felt like a running back for the local
Panthers football team, dodging moving targets. Unfortunately, he
couldn’t remember a game they had won, and his progress was worthy
of the same praise. Somehow, the bobbing fedora was still drifting
further away. Daniel broke into a run. Passing men and women gave
him sidelong glances. A few locals cursed as he shoved them aside,
attempting to close the gap with his prey.

The loud shouts didn’t bother the man in the
fedora. He never turned or glanced back. He just continued down the
packed street, his dark hat bobbing overtop the crowd. As Daniel
closed the distance, the unusual man walked directly into a father
and daughter walking hand in hand. The stranger faded into a misty
existence and phased through them. Without anyone realizing, the
anomaly solidified on the other side and continued as though
nothing had happened.

Daniel halted mid-step as his heart skipped
a beat. “Whoa, this guy can’t be Black Force,” he muttered. “He’s
like their hopped-up, crooked cousin.”

The possibilities tumbled
through his mind.
Either way, this guy’s
looking for trouble.

He was tired of waiting for them to find
him. He had to act. “There’s no such thing as coincidence,” he
whispered with renewed confidence.

The retired mercenary redoubled his pace and
began gaining on the fedora. The old courthouse was around the next
bend, and the sidewalk grew more congested. His broad shoulders
cowed some people, but others he cast aside like scattered chess
pieces. Faces whizzed by in a blur, man… man… woman… man … child,
but his attention remained on the armed stranger.

Daniel made his way to the corner, but was
unable to reach his prey before the man entered the busy street.
Stepping out of the packed sidewalk, the ex-mercenary stopped at
the curb edge to watch the man cross. The armed apparition passed
through cars undetected, heading for the municipal building. The
muzzle of his rapid-fire gun came up as he approached the building
front, but still no one reacted.

The veteran’s gaze followed the apparition
across as the sun peeked over the mountainous horizon, but his eyes
stopped abruptly when the courthouse came into view. Around it was
a dimly outlined building, much larger than the courthouse of his
reality. It stood overtop the historic building like a spectral
shadow. He tilted his head, attempting to find the pinnacle, but
its towering peak disappeared into the dawn sky. The building was
enormous, like those in larger cities. It was a phantom skyscraper
attempting to exist in an already occupied space. Its edges stood
out against the stone structure of the courthouse, glistening blue
like the threads of shimmering spiderwebs.

He stood motionless, in awe of the sight.
Much like the man he had followed, it gave no one else reason for
pause. He looked around, but even the fedora in the distance didn’t
break its casual stride. A moment later, the man disappeared into
the miasmic building.