A Time of Demons

A Time of Demons Book 1 of the

Before The End Series

By

Kathryn Meyer Griffith

Damnation Books, LLC. P.O. Box 3931 Santa Rosa, CA 95402-9998 www.damnationbooks.com A Time of Demons: Book 1 of the Before The End series by Kathryn Meyer Griffith Digital ISBN: 978-1-61572-131-3 Print ISBN: 978-1-61572-132-0 Cover Art © 2010 by Annie Melton Edited by Lisa Jackson Copyedited by Lisa Jackson Layout and Book Production by Ally Robertson Copyright 2010 Kathryn Meyer Griffith Printed in the United States of America Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights 1st North American and UK Print Rights All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced , scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Dedication For my singer/songwriter brother Jim (JS Meyer). And for my mother and father, Delores and Earl Meyer, and my beloved storyteller grandmother, Mary Fehrt, who are already on the other side.

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Chapter One Cassandra & Johnny “Why are you looking at me that way?” The man asked, smiling. Cassandra Graystone’s gaze took in the maroon shirt, the shaggy golden hair, and sleepy eyes as the man stood a few feet away from her. He had a charming way about him, too, and would have been the type of man she’d have been attracted to under normal circumstances. But those were the key words: Under normal circumstances. She looked away, yet as hard as she tried, her face must have shown her feelings of dread. It must have given away a hint of the truth she’d already glimpsed somewhere deep behind her eyes. The man was going to die very soon. “Sorry, didn’t mean anything by it. I thought you were someone I knew, that’s all.” She used that line a lot. It usually worked. She shrugged and flashed the man an apologetic smile in the dimness of the lounge. “I am, kind of. I’ve been here the last three Fridays. I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoy listening to you and your brother sing.” There was still a smile on his lips. “You two have such lovely harmonies. And your brother’s original songs are really good. Man, can he play that guitar.” She felt flattered and sad for the man all at once. “Thank you. I’ll tell him what you said. Johnny loves compliments.” Her eyes scanned the room. No Johnny. “He’s around here somewhere. Probably talking to someone or in the restroom. But I’ll tell him you liked his songs.” “You guys rock.”

Page 2 Forcing out a smile, she replied, “Thank you. Appreciate you saying so. We can use all the fans we can get.” She closed her brother’s guitar case, snapped the locks, then wrapped the cord around his microphone and placed it in the box with the other equipment. She wished the man would go away, leave her alone. He’d brushed up against her and she knew he was a walking dead person. And, as always, there was nothing she could do to help him. Oh, yeah, she’d learned to keep her mouth shut. People didn’t want to know they were going to die—when or how— though she never saw every last tiny detail. People freaked out or thought she was some crazy woman. Having been on the receiving end of that sour tune once too often, she had learned her lesson. She’d been called everything from a bitch to a witch. Once, someone had even slugged her. Don’t ever tell them what you see. Don’t ever tell them anything. Oh, she’d learned. “How long have you two been playing together?” “Since we were kids.” They’d caterwauled on the swing set in the back yard from the time she was ten or so, later in high school talent shows, and out in public for money as soon as they were old enough to drive. Started with folk music, contemporary pop and rock; tossed in a little of the new country and bluegrass for spice. At eighteen, Johnny began to write songs and he taught her how to play guitar, something he’d picked up from his friends in the school band. He could listen to a song on the radio and in minutes would be able to play it. She had a natural ear for harmony. And their singing careers were born. Lately, for some reason neither of them could explain, they’d taken to throwing in their own arrangements of oldtime gospel melodies and Johnny had begun to write songs that were definitely spiritual. Which wasn’t so unusual, since they were both Christians. “Well, I just wanted to tell you how much I like you two.

Page 3 Your voices sound like they belong together. Like angels.” Cassandra looked directly at the man for the first time. “I even like your brother’s lame jokes.” The man chuckled. “At least someone does.” On stage, Johnny told what she considered to be tasteless little anecdotes and she was always making fun of him for it. But the crowd ate up their ribbing each other. So they’d kept both in the act. “He can sure make the crowd laugh and your ballads make them cry.” She felt her face turning red. Unlike her brother, she had a hard time accepting praise of any sort. “Thank you.” Ooh, she wished he would go away. She didn’t want to know him. She’d only feel worse later. “Someday, I bet, you two are going to be rich and famous. I know it.” She shrugged. “From your mouth to fate’s ears. But it really doesn’t matter to us. We’re happy the way things are. We get to do what we love and we get paid for it.” Oh, sure, when they’d been kids they’d dreamed of record deals, of being filthy rich and thought that was the road to happiness—but that was before the fire. Things changed after that. Now merely being together, being with their aunt and uncle, and singing for their supper, rent, and utilities were all they wanted. “Ah, but everyone needs money.” He shoved a twentydollar bill at her. “Here, before I go I wanted to give you your tip in person. Ten for both of you.” “No, you don’t need to do that.” Cassandra tried to give the twenty back, but the man refused it with a shake of his head. “Nah, it’s for you. I was really down tonight. Too much bad stuff happening in my life these days. Your music’s really cheered me up. Please, take it.” She hesitated a second. He seemed adamant and wasn’t going to be talked out of it. “All right. Again, thank you. Johnny says thank you, too.” Of course Johnny would. He

Page 4 forever needed money. Because, maybe, their pay wasn’t quite enough to cover all their living expenses, but tips helped and they lived simply. Or she did, anyway. She rented the upstairs flat of her aunt and uncle’s duplex that faced Forest Park, ridiculously cheap. But living cheaply wasn’t her brother’s thing. Johnny was good at living high on the hog, even when he didn’t have the hog and couldn’t stay on a budget if he were glued to it. He insisted on keeping his own apartment on the other side of town instead of living with the rest of the family. Said he wanted to go home to his own space at the end of the day. Five months ago he’d gotten this bug up his butt about being independent and being his own man. Ha, a man in debt is what he was. His cupboards were bare and he mooched most of his meals off his friends and family. She often had to lend him money. Sometimes, Cassandra thought he lived by himself because Aunt Ellie was sick and he didn’t want to be in the middle of it. Didn’t want to be bothered. Then, she’d feel guilty for thinking that. Johnny had a big heart. He liked his solitude or so she kept telling herself. She had a roomy apartment, but he’d had to live on the first floor with the old ones, so she didn’t blame him. Ellie could be…difficult lately. “Well, it’s been nice chatting with you,” the man said. “I can see you’re busy so I’ll be going. Say hi to your brother for me.” “I will.” “See you next Friday?” “We’ll be here.” The man with the invisible target on his face walked away into the thinning crowd. She took one last glance and saw his bright shirt disappear through the door into the night. With a sigh, she packed her guitar in its case, breathed in the deep polished scent of wood, and looked around for her brother. Time to go home. He was probably outside stealing a smoke, knowing she’d give him hell if she saw him with one

Page 5 in his hand. The lights were dim. It helped hide the shabbiness. The Red Carpet Lounge wasn’t special in any way except for Morey, a generous man who treated everyone like a friend, who ran the place—and that she and her brother had been singing there three nights a week for the last five months. The money was better than some places. They’d done a lot worse over their careers. If a person could call lounge singing a career. She’d never planned on singing in bars as a living, but life was strange. A person did what a person had to do to survive. It was as if she’d been waiting for her real life to begin and it just never had. Not so far, anyway. College hadn’t appealed to her (tests made her sick to her stomach) and she’d found nothing else that captured her passion like music. Then again, she and Johnny weren’t office types. They’d have trouble punching in anywhere at eight A.M., being locked up in tight cubicles, or taking orders. Free spirits that they were. Her eyes searched for her brother, anxious to get home and make sure Aunt Ellie and Uncle George were all right. Just a funny feeling she had. They’d raised her and Johnny since she’d been nine and Johnny seven…since the fire that had killed the rest of their family twenty years ago. Once, she’d had three sisters and three brothers, and a mother and a father she’d adored. After the fire ravaged their home and took most of them, all she had left was Johnny and burn scars on her face and leg to remind her of that night. As if she could ever forget. After the fire, her childless aunt and uncle, her father’s much older brother, had taken them in, loved, and raised them without a look back. Now it was her and Johnny’s turn to take care of them. They were getting old and, though George had his own medical problems, Ellie was becoming more befuddled every day. It affected all of them. George and Ellie were more like grandparents with the

Page 6 needs of aging grandparents. They were forgetful, had a basket of pills to take each day, and their fragile bodies were home to mysterious aches and pains. They didn’t like their routine changed. George’s eyes gave him trouble, so he wasn’t driving any more, and Ellie was too out of it most of the time to trust behind a wheel. Doctor visits, shopping, and errands had fallen to Johnny and her. Mostly her. She didn’t mind taking care of them. All in all it was a good life—except for the sad memories of her dead family and her little curse of seeing things she didn’t want to see and knowing things she didn’t want to know. She hated it when she looked at a face and another visage leaked through skin and bones and, just for a heartbeat, showed her something hideous. That talent had only begun the last few weeks and it had her more upset than she’d admit. It made her doubt her sanity. Made her wonder if she was delusional. Yesterday, she’d asked her uncle if insanity ran in the family and he’d laughed. “Not that I know of. But, hey, I never did meet any of your mother’s side.” Great. Her brother was coming towards her. Smelling like cigarette smoke and looking tired. “Cassie, you ready to call it a night?” “All packed up and heading for the door. Just waited to say bye. You smell like smoke, Johnny.” She noticed he ignored her critical observation and the unintentional double meaning. They both knew there was more than one kind of smoke. “Glad you waited, Sis, because I need to hitch a ride home with you. The junk heap won’t start again. I think it’s the battery. Probably needs a new one.” “You need to get yourself a new car, Brother. One that doesn’t break down every other day.” Cassandra grabbed her purse and her guitar, a six string acoustic Guild. It’d been her father’s, had miraculously escaped the flames of her childhood home, and was precious to her. She remembered,

Page 7 as a little girl, her father picking around on it. He’d never been real good, but he’d be proud of them now. She didn’t leave her instrument at the bar overnight. It was worth too much to her to chance it being stolen. “Tell me about it. But you know I don’t have the cash for a new ride. Tomorrow I’ll see what it’d take to patch it up again. Hopefully I can get a few more months out of it.” “You’ve been jury-rigging that old Sky Hawk for years. It’s sixteen years old, for heaven’s sake, Johnny.” “Yeah, but you know me. I can’t bear to let go of things.” Might have something to do with the fire and losing everything he ever had when he was young. “Sometimes there’s nothing else to do but let go. That car is beyond fixing. It’s ready for the junk yard.” “Nah, it’s not. You’ll see.” She sighed. She handed him the twenty she’d been given earlier, glad to get rid of it. “Here, a tip. Put it towards the new muffler.” “Thanks, Sis.” Not one to turn down a gift, he pocketed the bill without bothering to ask who it came from. Money was money to him. “Okay, come on, I’ll drop you off.” “Good night all.” Johnny spread his fingers in an arc as they walked out. A couple of the regulars, still nursing their last drinks, smiled or returned the wave. “’Night, Morey, see you tomorrow,” Cassandra told their boss. “Tomorrow, kids,” Morey muttered, propped up behind the bar, his head cradled in his heavy arms. He didn’t look up when they went out the door. He’d told her earlier he’d helped a friend move that day and was exhausted. The world was hushed. It was the middle of the night, yet the moon’s lopsided grin cast a pearly shimmer over the empty streets and buildings around them. She used to love this time of night before the strange things began to happen to her.

Page 8 “Whew,” Cassandra said, “it’s still like an oven out here. I’m sweating already.” And she hated sweating. It ruined her good clothes. “I’ll be glad to get home and bask in my air conditioning.” “It’s normal for July, though. Summer in St. Louis, don’t you love it? Even the storms haven’t broken the heat wave.” “At least it isn’t raining. At the moment, anyway.” “One good thing. I’ve had about enough of those weird storms. Rain’s too heavy. Wind’s too fierce. Too much lightning.” “It has been sort of freaky, hasn’t it?” “I’ll say.” Johnny stared upwards as if he were afraid a storm would come out of nowhere and attack them by surprise. Then his eyes went to a commotion down the road from the bar. Cassandra looked too, she couldn’t help it. Sirens screeched and flashing lights drew up to the crowd of people on the sidewalk. “Wonder what’s going on down there.” Johnny craned his neck. “Looks like a meat wagon.” “Looks like it. “Come on, let’s go.” Turning her head, she hurried towards the car. Johnny straggled behind her because, as usual, he was gawking at the hubbub, wanting to know what was going on. He should have been a vulture the way he was drawn to disasters. “What’s going on down there? Aren’t we going to go see what’s happened?” Johnny demanded, not getting in the car. The night breeze ruffled his long hair, his face in silhouette. “Someone got hit by a car, that’s what,” she snapped a bit too sharply. “Let’s go. It’s really late and I’m really tired.” “Hold on a second. I’m going to see. Don’t leave without me.” Johnny strode down the street towards the crowd and she had no choice but to traipse after him like some groupie. She dragged her feet on purpose, not wanting to see what she knew she was going to see.

Page 9 Since the fire, her brother had had a morbid fascination with accidents, death, and she was sick of it. She didn’t want to go down there. She didn’t want to see anything. It’d live in her memory for days like a bad taste. No, it was better not to look. Better not to know. Johnny was the only one who knew that she saw death before it happened, which made his fascination in horrific events and other people’s demises even more of an irritation. She could have kicked him for dragging her to the accident scene, yet she couldn’t stop him. She caught up as he stood by the ambulance watching the paramedics load the victim into the back. The crowd surged closer to see more. “What happened?” Johnny asked the paramedic nearest him. “Hit and run. Car got him as he was crossing the street here.” “How is he?” “Guy is dead. He bled out before we could get to him. Poor sucker.” The man shook his head, shoved the gurney completely in, and closed the doors. To him, it was just another pick-up in a long night. Just another corpse. In the interior lights before the gurney disappeared, Cassandra glimpsed the maroon shirt peeking out from under the sheet. Sorrow nipped at her for a moment and ebbed away. I’m not responsible. I can never stop it. God knows I’ve tried so many times, but it never makes any difference what I do. They always died. Simple as that. She was only a spectator. Don’t, she bit her lip to keep it from trembling, start blaming yourself again. I should have done something. Said something. Stop it! The way she’d come to see it, if she’d wanted to prevent the deaths she’d have to either convince the victims they were going to die—as if that would ever work—or tail them and physically try to save them in one way or another. Both impossibilities.

Page 10 It’d take all of her time and she’d have to give up her life as she knew it. If she could even save them. She didn’t think so. Ha, and if she began stalking strangers all over town like a berserk P.I., people wouldn’t understand. Heck. They thought she was weird enough the way it was. Not having a regular job, singing all night, and sleeping most of the day. Everyone knew musicians were crazy. Why, she asked God, had she been given such an insight and what was she supposed to do with it? But He never answered. Not caring if her brother followed or not, Cassandra walked to her car, got in, slammed the door shut, and stuck the key in. The engine roared to life as Johnny, breathing hard, slid into the passenger seat. She pushed down hard on the accelerator. “Sorry,” her brother spoke contritely and fell quiet for a block or two. And, as she knew he would, then rattled on. “When I got to the ambulance they were covering up the dude who got hit. He was in the bar tonight. I saw him talking to you.” She knew what he was going to ask next. “Don’t ask it,” she growled softly. “You don’t want to know.” Johnny didn’t push it. It meant she didn’t have to knock him in the head. They rode the rest of the way in silence. She dropped him off at his apartment and five miles later pulled into the driveway below her flat. Being it was after two in the morning, her aunt and uncle’s lower apartment had no lights on. “Please, Aunt Ellie,” she murmured, “stay in bed tonight. Don’t go wandering out in the yard again.” The night before, her aunt had snuck out of the house and Uncle George had had a heck of a time finding her. Good thing he got her back in the house when he did, because later, one of those fierce storms had blown in. It would have been awful if Ellie had been out in it. Time to have her aunt checked out again by her doctor.

Page 11 The old dear forgot things and took off, getting lost more often all the time. That wasn’t normal. Aunt Ellie was getting worse. Yet George believed he could still take care of her. All he had to do was try harder. Yeah, sure, he was in denial big time. Truth was, Ellie was becoming unmanageable and Uncle George wasn’t spry enough to keep up with her, much less keep her corralled. Cassandra was still fretting about her aunt’s strange behavior and her uncle’s failing health and what she was going to do about it all, when she bumped into the man. Only he wasn’t a man. When her body came into contact with his, she knew something was wrong immediately. Images and feelings she couldn’t understand rushed into her head like vignettes from a horror movie…of dripping blood, dead bodies, and creatures that morphed into other creatures. What was that about? Caught off guard and overwhelmed by the images, she blurted out, “What are you? You’re not a remnant, but you aren’t human either—” The man who wasn’t a man spun around and disappeared into the night’s shadows. Had she completely and finally lost her mind? Now she was bumping into and seeing ghosts, too. Like a few nights earlier. She’d been driving past a cemetery on her way to work and saw this smoky wraithlike thing resembling a woman flitting around a fresh grave’s headstone. The apparition, floating beneath a willow tree, had stared through the twilight and wiggled pasty fingers at her, wanting her to come nearer. She’d swerved the car onto the shoulder of the road, her body trembling. An eerie cold sensation sank into the pit of her stomach as she got out of her car. What did it want? But when she stomped up to the wraith, it just wickedly smiled at her and evaporated into the ground mist as if slipping back into its grave. It was the third time that week something unearthly had beckoned, but then refused to speak to her,

Page 12 from a graveyard. It was giving her the willies. This has got to stop. Now, on top of everything, she was seeing…spooks. Sheesh. What next? Vampires? Shaking her head, she went around to the rear of the house and climbed the steps to her rooms, wishing she’d seen the direction the man had been coming from when he’d stumbled into her, wishing she’d gotten a better look at him. She wished the encounter had never happened so close to her home. Pushing the incident out of her head wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be. The uneasiness the man had left behind, the sharp whiff of evil that clung to him, wouldn’t go away. She knew evil when she saw or was around it—another side effect of her curse. It was bad enough she could see death coming. Why was she also seeing these other things? She must be losing it. Big time. Slipping inside, she locked the door behind her, dropped her guitar and purse on the sofa, and peered out the window between the blinds. The moonlight showed her there was no one outside. The yard and street in front of the house were vacant. Across the road, the familiar outlines of the park’s trees swayed in the night breezes. Nothing was out there that didn’t belong. Her fingers drew back from the blinds as she sighed. She was home. Safe. She liked her apartment with its private rear entrance. Her aunt and uncle lived below her and were close enough to keep an eye on. The city, noisy and vibrant, surrounded her. Stores and theaters were within walking distance. Lush and beautiful Forest Park sprawled before her. She could meander in the woods under the shade trees or visit the zoo animals on sunny days…though there hadn’t been many of those lately. A frown settled on her lips. So far it’d been the stormiest spring and summer she’d ever seen, with horrendous heat, lightning storms, flooding, and monster tornadoes. The

Page 13 weather had been exceptionally destructive. So unusual. She switched on the light and slumped down on the couch. Shutting her eyes, she ran her fingers across the slick fabric. Great couch. It had a bed inside, too; was almost like new, though she’d found it at an estate sale a year ago and had gotten it dirt-cheap. How she loved a bargain. She looked around her flat with a smug smile. Spacious for a top floor, it had a living room, kitchen, bath, two bedrooms, and a walk-in storage closet that was actually large enough to double, in a pinch, for a small room. She’d worked hard to make the flat comfortable. Thrift store purchases aside, it did look nice. Fluffy rugs on the floors and original paintings of angels and pastoral scenery in muted colors hung on the walls. The paintings hadn’t cost much, either. Some of her friends were artists, and some were mystics…or crackpots, as her uncle affectionately called them. One of those crackpots, Sarah, was her best friend. She told fortunes and read tarot cards for a living and wasn’t too bad at either. Problem was Sarah also thought she was a spirit medium. She’d been performing séances for years, but hadn’t heard or seen an actual ghost…yet. She believed it would happen any day. It was only a matter of time and patience. Yeah, sure, wait until she does see a spook. Ha! It’ll scare the bejesus out of her, too. What would Sarah have made of that creature out in the street? Hmmm. A grin slipped out. Sarah would have most likely invited it to tea or something. Offered to read its cards. Ooh, she’d like to be at that reading. The thought made her chuckle. But then, someone else’s take on the encounter might not be such a bad idea. What would Sarah think of the man-whowasn’t-really-a-man who’d bumped into her? Undressing, she took a shower, made hot chocolate, and crawled into bed with the cup. She couldn’t get that strange man out of her mind. The

Page 14 uneasiness wouldn’t go away. Was he out there somewhere watching her? He could be. She had the sudden premonition their paths would cross again. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did. Her eyes went to the scorched crucifix on the wall above her head. The wooden cross had been her mother’s and it would protect her from anything evil out in the night. God would protect her. She finished the cocoa and put her head to the pillow. There was nothing she could do about the stranger out in the street or the way she felt or the things she was seeing. But she could go to sleep and put it out of her mind for the remainder of the night. That she could do. The gentle cadence of the rain began outside and calmed her. When she was on the verge of sleep, her cat, Snowball, hopped on the bed, and purring loudly, snuggled into the curve of her body. She cuddled the cat to the sound of the rain and allowed herself to drift away, knowing she was safe.

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Chapter Two Rayner Rayner skulked through the shadows that muddied the dark sidewalks. People who rushed by as he passed saw what they wanted to see. A man in sweats or in a business suit with forgettable features they thought they might have known once. They’d forget him a moment after he’d disappeared into the night. A twirl of mist. An after breeze. They never saw him for what he truly was. He stopped outside the nightclub and slithered up against the entrance wall. Most humans would call him a vampire. They didn’t know any better. He was an ancient blood demon. There were no vampires, werewolves, or supernatural beings. No true mass murderers or serial killers, either, for that matter. No such things. Only demons. And he was ravenously hungry again. The din of humans laughing, singing, and cavorting like mindless children beyond the doors maddened him. They were unaware of the danger so near as he lurked outside in the early morning hours. Waiting for his prey. It was like plucking appetizers off a plate. His victims would be drunk. He’d suck their ninety-proof blood and get tipsy himself. W hich is fine with me. Inebriation helps me to forget. Every noise made his eyes blink. Bouncing from foot to foot, a snarl escaped from his mouth. His hands were clenched fists at his side. He had to fight the urge to smash something, hurt something. Why wouldn’t they stop tormenting him?

Page 16 Those enraged or frightened faces of his victims, some misty, some clearer, that were everywhere in the air around him. One moment they were there, another they were not… his dead humans. Only recently had they begun to haunt and follow him. Their remnants falling into line behind him must stretch out for miles and miles. He didn’t dare look, but could hear their soft and squishy breathing; their zombie-like footsteps as they tracked him from place to place. He could no longer escape them. That’d never happened before. Sliding into an entryway, his eyes peering into the gloom, he waited. He’d already fed, but didn’t yet want to return to his apartment. When he was in silence, alone, the centuries taunted him with their swift passing, their endless emptiness. The everlasting accumulation of years was driving him insane. That and waiting for the final battle with humanity to begin. Perhaps it never would. Perhaps all the legends were lies and his kind had no final purpose. No great destiny at all. They simply existed to kill…kill…kill…and be tormented century after century with the futility of their continuation. His dead victims stalked him; the voices in his head tortured him. And his irritability was getting worse. It was a sign. Something big was about to happen. He could feel, sense, and almost smell the carnage, the upheaval coming. The last time he’d felt this way had been the start of a world war. This time the forewarnings were worse. No amount of warm blood alleviated his discomfort, but he kept moving and killing anyway. It was all he knew. He drank blood until he could drink no more. It didn’t help. He shoved the troubling thoughts from his mind. It didn’t help. Frustrated, he’d retreat to his lair and pass out until the next night. Then the cycle would begin again. With what he was, he couldn’t stay long in one place, couldn’t afford to form close ties to anything or anyone.

Page 17 Growing attached was a problem because he never aged. Soon, he’d be packing and moving on. Forever alone was the story of his existence. Humans were only for sustenance and he didn’t get along with his kind. They believed he was too soft. And he had enemies everywhere who mustn’t find him. Often, he questioned why he should go on at all. The melancholy, as he called it, had again captured him. It happened that way. Every few centuries he’d sink into depression between the highs of basking in the spectacles of a new age and the lows of having done everything so many times he was bored silly. Very little surprised or interested him anymore. I’ve been among the humans too long. Their passivity has infected me. He’d thought of ending himself—as an ancient one, he knew there were ways—and had been close to doing it many times. But something, the scent of fresh blood, the lust for the hunt, or a new challenge would beckon him back at the last moment and he’d go on until the next melancholy. But truth was, they’d been coming closer and closer together. He hated his wretched existence. A lone woman, her steps wobbly, exited the bar and headed for her car. Her skin glistened with sweat. It must be a sultry night, though he couldn’t feel the heat. Oh, how he’d love to be able to feel those tactile sensations of warmth and cold. How he’d love to taste anything but blood. All else tasted, smelled, like cardboard. In all his time, he’d never experienced love or hope. Compassion or mercy. He was a killing machine that hated, despaired, and, lucky him, could feel physical pain. Some life. The woman had too much to drink. Past her prime, there was no wedding band on her finger and there was too much make-up smeared on her face. He followed her, spying on her thoughts. She wasn’t going home to anyone. No one waited anywhere for her.

Page 18 Ah, what a shame. His smile mocked. Her cat had died the week before. Tsk, tsk. Too bad. So sad. He listened to her inner litany of money and love troubles. It made his head hurt. There was something medically wrong with her heart. She was miserable. A throwaway person. She fumbled at the lock of her car door, humming off key, and he readied to strike. Then the others of his kind appeared and charged down the street towards him. Moving as swiftly as starving wolves scenting fresh prey. To a human’s ears, they’d be suspicious noises in the twilight or dark, the shiver of a mortal’s blood-soaked skin; barely shadows. But Rayner could see them. All four of them. And they’d seen him. He didn’t know who they were, hadn’t been officially introduced, though he’d spied them around the area a few times. They were younger than he, wild and impetuous, their actions dangerously risky. Show offs who didn’t play by the old rules. He didn’t approve of their behavior. They might have been invisible, but their voices and laughter weren’t. And their bloodlust was insatiable. Their kills sloppy. They ruined it for the rest of them. Alerted the humans to their presence. Made it harder for their kind to remain hidden. The pack swooped down, snatched the woman, and dragged her into the air screaming and kicking. They broke her neck—he heard the crack loud and sharp in the air above—and drained her of blood, passing her around like a communal cup. The woman’s broken body was tossed at his feet, an empty husk; another demon commandment shattered as the shadows sped away. Blood drinkers with half a brain knew that after they fed they disposed of the leftovers in a woodsy

Page 19 grave or deep ravine where humans wouldn’t discover the bodies too easily. All the missing people in the world? Well, that’s what happened to most of them. Demon snacks. The woman’s cries echoed in his head. Most of the young ones were brutal. For them, the hunting and killing were better sport than the feeding. Stealing the humans’ lives weren’t enough. They had to torture them first. Had he been like that once? He probably had. But it was a long time past. Once, he would have joined the gang for the rest of the night to feed on whatever mortals they came across and to lord their superiority over the unlucky race. Not tonight. He didn’t feel like it. The demons flew over the parking lot and rocketed towards the towering silver arch standing guard before the river. The arch’s metal gleamed in the city’s lights. Called the gateway to the west, it was beautiful. Graceful and shiny. A marvel of architect fashioned by the very creatures he’d always detested. Had detested. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Once, he’d thought he was a god among them and that someday the mortals would be extinct, except as food and slaves, and his kind would rule the earth…when they won the final battle. It hadn’t happened. Eons had passed and the humans had proliferated like termites, had grown stronger over the millenniums, and now dominated the world. Now, how had that come to be? How had humans, with their frail bodies, weak minds, and unruly hearts become masters of the planet? He didn’t know. Especially since humans were so motivated by emotions. Love. Hate. Revenge. Guilt. So…messy. And they didn’t have a clue to what was coming. Well, most of them anyway. Something stirred in the bag of bones at his feet and a translucent being, a wraithlike ghostly thing that appeared to be human but wasn’t, escaped the remains and stood up to stare back at him. It smiled and gestured gently with milky

Page 20 hands and gazed upwards as if it saw something he didn’t. Something exquisitely breathtaking. Its see-through face was full of awe, happiness and such peace. It glowed. Frozen, Rayner felt an emotion he’d never had before. Amazement. W hat was this thing? And why was it so blissful? It was dead, after all. The demon couldn’t understand what the shimmering creature was trying to say to him, though it wasn’t angry or upset. It was so happy. All Rayner could do was watch in astonishment as it drifted upward into the velvet blackness of the vast night sky and vanished, taking all its radiance and his strange emotions with it. The humans would have called that glowing thing a soul. He’d read about souls. It was something humans believed they had that allowed them to live forever in a place called heaven. Hmm, live forever without stealing blood, without killing other beings. Finally being happy. What a pipe dream. Had it really been a soul? No, impossible. He didn’t believe in souls. None of his kind did. It was just another myth, a great lie, perpetrated by the enemy to enslave their soldiers. But it fit the description of one. If that was what it had been. How strange. Staring up into the sky, the rain began to fall softly and then heavier until the night world was a curtain of water. It washed away the small amount of blood that pooled beneath the woman’s corpse and somehow the pile of skin and bones, left-behind debris, seemed less now. The translucent being must have animated it. Now the body was only a dead thing. Rayner didn’t know what to do. No matter how he tried to justify it, seeing that thing come out of the body and rise into the skies had shaken him. He wanted to go home and not think about it. Disturbed, he wasn’t hungry any longer. There were no such things as souls. And demons weren’t supposed to be able to see them anyway. But he’d seen something. What did it mean?

Page 21 The rain pursued him through the abandoned streets. Steam rose from the sidewalks and wrapped him in a smoky haze. He passed no people. Saw no other demons. He was alone. Inside the apartment, he made sure the shades were down and the windows and doors were locked before he went into his room, barely more than a walk-in closet, which was part of a larger suite. It wasn’t much, but didn’t cost him a penny. He never paid for anything. He lay on his single bed and let his gaze rove the tiny, bare, and unadorned space with the empty walls. He’d never spruced it up. It was only a place to fritter the day away in between hunting and slaughtering humans. After awhile, the divorced stockbroker who rented the apartment, Shelly something or other, came stumbling in. For some reason, he had no idea why, he’d allowed her to live. She wasn’t any trouble and the ruse helped conceal him. People were used to her living there and asked no questions. She traveled a lot and her mind was easy to manipulate. As most humans, she didn’t believe in supernaturals, so he could hide right in front of her. She’d never seen him, never guessed she was living with a demon. Her hand was on the closet door. Go away, he silently ordered. She did. It worked every time. Her clothes were strewn all over the apartment because he lived in her closet. Later, the outside door opened and shut. The woman had left again. Probably running an errand or going out for a late rendezvous. She was a restless human. He wanted to sleep and forget what he’d seen earlier on the parking lot, how unnerved it’d made him feel, but the disquiet had returned stronger than ever and kept him from it. There was a racket outside his room. Someone was in the apartment and it wasn’t Shelly what’s her name, either. Glass broke, someone yelled, and malicious laughter came through

Page 22 the door at him. There were the mournful cries of a human child. “Damn, how did they find me?” Rayner growled. He yanked the door open. The demons from outside the bar who’d taken his meal were in the apartment and they’d brought a captive. Cowering in a corner, terrified, was a redheaded human boy of about ten or so. “We brought him for you, Rayner. A gift,” said the demon nearest him. It wore the empty face of a twenty-year-old mortal with greasy flaxen hair and was dressed in leather from head to toe. In its ears were earrings and in its nose, a ring. Skin was as white as a bottle of milk. It looked like the perfect movie vampire. Oh, the young ones, they liked their little jokes. “To make up for stealing that woman earlier. Sorry, we got carried away. Ya know how it is…when the hunger hits?” Rayner didn’t believe they were sorry for what they’d done, for anything they did. They were there to gauge his strength so they could taunt him. Try to vanquish him. The young ones were forever trying to depose of the old ones; doing so carved vivid notches on their belts and gave them power and higher standing in the demon world. Ha, they had much to learn, but Rayner wasn’t worried. They didn’t know who they were dealing with. They were more a nuisance than a threat, disturbing his tranquility and reminding him of being stupidly young. He didn’t like to remember those days and didn’t appreciate those who made him remember. “Please, let me go,” the child begged. “I won’t tell anyone what happened to me. That you took me. I promise.” Blood dripped from the boy’s nose and bruises darkened his tiny face. His fragile body was plastered against the wall. “I want to go home,” he whimpered. One of the demons walked over and kicked him. The crying became sniveling. Tear-rimmed eyes pleaded for help, full of fear and pain, and fastened on the one being that had

Page 23 not hurt him so far. Strangely, the boy’s eyes made Rayner uncomfortable. He saw his pain and something rippled beneath his cold skin. He felt swift anger at himself. At the demons who’d brought the child. Why should he care if another human died? Over the centuries, he’d killed thousands. Hundreds of thousands. One of the demons dropped a lamp and grinned at Rayner as it crashed to the floor. Short in stature, the young one had donned skin the color of dark chocolate and a gaze that glittered with hatred. Being one himself, Rayner could see the real demon behind the façade. Its true form having scaly stygian skin, huge clawed feet, and two sharp tails. Its eyes were ebony stones and its teeth were sharpened spikes. Damn, he’d liked that lamp. It’d been elegantly expensive. The stockbroker would definitely miss it. Which meant he had to either replace it or tweak her mind so she’d think she’d broken it herself. Or he could kill her. But, the bottom line was, now Rayner had to move on. He didn’t trust the trio in front of him knowing where his sanctuary was. That made him the angriest. Was he losing his grip that such young ones could find him so easily? That they knew his name? Or had he been marked for termination… because of his actions and what he’d been thinking lately? Had some of his older demon kin read his thoughts? Uh, oh. “I don’t want your peace offering,” Rayner spat. He was watching the blubbering child, who’d realized he wasn’t going to get any help from him. “I want you all out of here. Now!” He pointed at the door, straightening to his full height, which was taller than any of the other demons. “And take your meal with you.” “Oh, we’re not leaving, ancient one. You can’t turn us out so easily,” greasy hair said. “We came here to pay you a visit and visit we shall.” The demon moved about the apartment, knocking things to the floor. Walking on the shattered glass. It made crunching sounds beneath its clumsy feet. “Nice pad. Much better than where we’re living. Some abandoned

Page 24 decrepit house on the outskirts of town. Mind us crashing here with you for awhile?” “Yes, I mind. Get out.” It’d been a long time since he’d used his mind control against another demon, but he called on what he had and leveled burning eyes at the three. Willed them to obey. Their minds were puny and there was no hesitation. They left, dragging the boy behind them, with only their trancelike response reflecting their confusion. The leather-clad leader glanced over his shoulder, his expression baffled as if to say, why am I doing this? You just wait…we’ll be back. Rayner observed through the window as they herded the child down the street in the rain. The boy’s eyes, peering up at him, were still begging. Poor human, so young, he’d be dead before the sun rose. Rayner experienced a rare twinge of guilt at the boy’s fate, then shrugged and turned away. It was none of his concern. Humans were there to feed on. That’s all. Young or old what difference did it make when they died? They didn’t live long anyway. But he’d killed no children recently. No, not in many years. The memory of the boy’s pitiful face, those terrified eyes, continued to annoy him as he searched for and located another place to live. He couldn’t shake it. It’d never crossed his mind to save the boy. Why would he? So it irritated him that the memory wouldn’t leave him. He found another place to live in a duplex across the street from St. Louis’s Forest Park. He noticed the For Rent sign on a stroll. The woods before him and the city behind appealed to him. It was a place to hide and to hunt all in one. A perfect spot. Soon, he had the landlady, a fleshy mortal with tinted hair and ferret eyes, thinking he’d already paid six months rent in advance. And she fell for the rest of the fairy-tale: That he was a reclusive writer—one of the many fake covers he used—

Page 25 who didn’t like to be bothered during the day because he was working on his new novel. Under the guise of an eccentric writer he got away with so much. He moved in, but didn’t meet the young woman next door until he bumped into her late that night. She was coming home around two in the morning as he was leaving. He’d made himself invisible to human eyes, but she saw him. She actually saw him. That was the first shock. The second was when she stopped, looked at him directly, and said, “What are you? You’re not a remnant, but you aren’t human either.” He’d stared at her, mouth open—he couldn’t read her thoughts at all, not a glimmer—and then he ran. He fled from her sharp eyes, her special knowing; hoping she hadn’t seen him come from the adjacent house, didn’t know what he was, and that she’d unsettled him. An awful thought hit him. Had humankind evolved so much that now some of them could see him when he didn’t want them to? Humans see demons and other invisibles? A sarcastic snort. Good grief, wouldn’t that change things? Truth was, she’d intrigued him. He sensed something different in her than in any other human he’d ever met. She was surrounded by this rainbow aura of pulsating light that he’d never witnessed before. And for a human, she’d had courage, showing no fear whatsoever when she saw him. There’d been caution, yes, but no fear. As if she’d dealt with his kind before. Odd. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. It’d been a long time since anyone had touched him in any way—and she had. In the dark, notwithstanding the scars on the side of her face her hair was meant to hide, he’d seen she was young and tall for a human female. Her voice had been husky. Strength hid behind her movements as fluid as an athlete’s or a dancer’s. Shoulder-length hair shone softly in the moonlight. Her eyes glistened deep with secrets. He saw all that and more. The dark hid nothing because he

Page 26 drew power from the night. After the encounter, he’d returned to skulk through the shadows around the two-story building he saw her go into, trying to peek in. But the blinds were drawn and he wasn’t sure which part of the house she was in. Other people lived there, he could sense them, so he couldn’t run in and drag her out. Not that he wanted to. It’d be foolish to cause trouble close to his new residence when he didn’t want to find another apartment. He liked his rooms, the location. So he went on his way. He had time. Unwise or not, he had to get to know the woman next door better. Find out if she could actually see his kind. And how. Then he’d decide what to do.

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Chapter Three Manasseh He’d been told the demon that had stumbled into Cassandra on the street went by the name of Rayner, though that wasn’t its real name, and he was not to interfere with any of its dealings. But Manasseh knew he had to do something. The ancient ones were trouble. They had great strength and were unpredictable. Rayner, one of the oldest of them, was extremely clever. The meeting hadn’t been an accident. If Manasseh wasn’t careful, the demon would steal Cassandra away to the other side—and that couldn’t happen. Or the demon would kill her. Manasseh wasn’t sure exactly how strong Rayner was, but he couldn’t take the chance that the fiend wouldn’t be able to harm the woman. She hadn’t yet come fully into her own, though her abilities were growing rapidly. It only puzzled Manasseh that Rayner hadn’t struck. Not that he’d succeed. Cassandra didn’t know it, but she could probably take care of herself even against such a formidable adversary. She’d soon have powers she couldn’t currently imagine. Except she wasn’t ready yet. She hadn’t seen or accepted her destiny. The world, still fairly secure and sane, hadn’t altered enough. Soon that would change. The enemy was preparing to launch a full assault. All the rules established over millenniums were about to fall away and the first thing they’d do would be to track down their enemies’ best warriors—the strongest and special of all the humans— and viciously eradicate them in any way they could before

Page 28 the final confrontations began. And they had begun. More humans were vanishing every day. The death toll increased every week. Before long, it would be a bloodbath…and even the mortals would notice. Manasseh had to be vigilant. Nothing must happen to those in his care. But of all of them, Cassandra was the most important and would be in the greatest danger if the other side discovered her existence too soon. Standing by the tree in the streetlight’s glow, the leaves hiding him, he watched Cassandra leave her apartment for work that evening. The demon, Rayner, lounged in the doorway of the house next door, his coal-red eyes also on the woman. The humid air was heavy with the scent of coming rain and the sky murky under a canopy of swift and menacing clouds. Another squall was brewing. In these times, storms, floods, hurricanes, and earthquakes would become more volatile. Turbulent weather such as the world had never seen. This was the beginning of the end. This was mild. Cassandra got in her car and drove away. He wrestled with knowing he should follow, protect her, but he needed to check on Obadiah, another human in his care. The man was facing a new crisis and Manasseh was concerned about him. Tonight, Obadiah would learn that his business had failed. His shop, the center of Obadiah’s solitary life, had been losing money since the new mall with the WalMart had opened and once the plummeting economy kicked in, it would be all over. Over the books, and the bills Obadiah couldn’t pay, he’d finally accept his business must close, and the next step towards his final path would be taken. That knowledge, along with the death of his wife the year before and her medical debts, could plunge him into a complete spiritual breakdown. Evil could sniff out despair. Manasseh had to find a way to ease the man’s burden without revealing himself. And protect Cassandra. So he’d tend to Obadiah’s situation as soon as he made sure Cassandra

Page 29 was not in immediate danger. Her car chugged over a hill. The next time Manasseh looked, the demon was gone. A split second later, Manasseh was sitting at a dark corner table in the Red Carpet Lounge. He didn’t want to be seen and so no one saw him. He was there for Cassandra, not there to judge the people drinking and loudly mingling around him attempting to fend off their loneliness. They were the normal collection of humans. Sometimes he could look at them and know which would survive and sometimes he couldn’t. He was not permitted to know everything. A middle-aged woman was working behind the bar serving drinks. Maggie Sounder had three children she was raising alone. Her husband, Charley, was a drunk and had run off with another woman six months past. Maggie was having a hard time coping. She wasn’t a bad woman, just a wishy-washy one. She loved her children, but couldn’t give them her time and full attention, or teach them about the love of God, all of which they needed. She was too busy working, flirting, and looking for a new husband. She believed a man and money were the answers to everything and if she had both then everything would be better in her life. An anemic soul barely flickered beneath Maggie’s flesh and bones. Faith and God’s love were what she needed. The way she was, she wouldn’t survive the first wave of troubles, if she lived that long. Beyond the windows, darkness and rain had arrived, slamming a storm surge against the glass. Thunder and streaks of electricity ripped and echoed across the sky. The windowpanes rattled in their mountings and the lightshow brightened the world. Even with the downpour, the temperature had become warmer. The humans drifting into the bar were soaked in water and perspiration and were short tempered as the heat and the noise level rose to a shrill crescendo.

Page 30 Manasseh recognized demons behind several of the human faces. More than usual tonight. They were one of the reasons Manasseh didn’t like going into buildings where there were crowds. The ratio of demon to mortal was shifting quickly. There were demons everywhere. Manasseh detected and avoided them and they couldn’t see him. For now. There’d come a time when the blinders would be lifted from everyone’s eyes, including theirs, and he’d have to kill them. They’d have to try to kill him. His foot tapped softly at first and then faster. His body tensed. He couldn’t wait for the day when he could raise his sword and strike all the fiends down once and for all. It’d been coming for so long and he was tired of waiting. There were demons, disguised as humans, drinking at a table beside the bandstand. “When’s the damn music going to start?” one griped. “Yeah, when are we going to get some entertainment in this dump?” His friend threw the remaining contents of his drink at the waitress as she scooted past, barely missing her. He stuck his booted foot out and tripped a man returning from the restroom. The guy sprawled on the floor, stunned surprise on his face. But when he looked up at who’d waylaid him, he just lowered his eyes and stumbled off to hide in a corner. Demon mind control. The weaker the human mind, the stronger the control. Dressed in T-shirts, ball caps, and blue jeans the demons appeared to be ordinary mortals of different ages and races. Manasseh never understood why, but most of them wore beards and never robed in bright colors. They especially hated yellow and sky blue. Most were wearing dark glasses. That he understood. In certain lights, their eyes, empty as their souls or, when angry, burning like crimson embers, betrayed them. Manasseh could hardly bear to be in the same room. Demons had a stench of burnt blood and ash around them and their minds were as dark as the place they’d come

Page 31 from. They mingled among men and committed the crimes that made humans cry: arson, wife beating, torture, and murders. Manasseh scowled. If there was a heinous crime being committed somewhere, there was most likely a demon perpetrating it or somehow behind it. They were making him angry. He had to remind himself why he was there and that his first responsibility was guarding Cassandra. It was difficult because all he wanted to do was to exterminate them. Not here. Not yet. Cassandra, guitar case in hand, wandered in with her brother in tow. They set up their equipment, tested microphones, got something to drink, and after tuning their instruments began to play. The demons were instantly agitated at the sound of Johnny and Cassandra’s voices. One of them glared balefully at the girl as another snarled something to his friends, his face shifting into a sneer. Manasseh didn’t like the looks of any of them. They were a fight waiting to happen. Malevolence glinted in their looks and their pretend smiles had no mirth. But he knew their kind. Most of them were cowards and wouldn’t hurt Cassandra or Johnny in such a public place. It’d garner too much attention and they wouldn’t want that. They usually waited until they could get the humans alone somewhere to do their damage. An omen of things to come, thunder rippled through the sultry air and eerily mimicked the resonance of human screams. Manasseh shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Still there was no sign of the demon, Rayner. Perhaps he wouldn’t show, though there was enough danger lurking in the crowd without him. Manasseh listened to Cassandra and her brother. Choir music was more his style, yet their voices were harmonious and their instrument playing skillful. There was an innocent goodness in their demeanors and the messages of their songs that made their performance compelling. And behind the

Page 32 melodies, their souls were luminous and shone like beacons from their eyes. Both of them were pure of heart and strong, the brother not quite as much as the sister, and would need to be because the future wouldn’t be easy for either of them. An hour went by. The songs and sibling banter were entertaining. People drank, conversed, and socialized. Rayner never showed up. The demons behaved themselves as much as they were able, hiding their impatience behind their smirks. No doubt they were planning something wicked for after they left the bar. He was about to see to Obadiah, when one of the demons behind him threw a bottle at Cassandra. She ducked before it made contact and smashed into the wall. Another demon flung one and hit Johnny in the head… and the brawl was on. Everyone shoved and kicked each other. Fists and flesh collided. The demons had instigated the clash and notched it up and that alarmed Manasseh. Though it was in their nature to cause pandemonium wherever and whenever they could, they were usually less obvious about it. Another bad sign. The room was an erupting volcano and people spilled into the stormy night to escape the flying glasses and bottles. Crouched down behind the bar, Maggie shouted into the phone: “Morey, you better get over here quick. There’s a big fight and everything’s being busted to hell. I’ll try to call the police—” The phone obviously went dead in her hands. “Damn!” She dropped it and ran out the door. Someone threw a table through a window and wind and rain splattered in. Everyone was screaming, slugging each other, or trying to escape through a door or window. One of the demons hurled itself at the two singers as if it wanted to tear them apart. Cassandra nimbly stepped aside and the fiend overshot and ended up beneath a table scrabbling to keep from being booted by a bunch of furious cowboys.

Page 33 Amidst the chaos, Cassandra shoved her wounded brother towards the back exit, their guitars protectively cradled in their arms. Manasseh followed them into the alley. He’d shield them if he had to. But Cassandra knew what to do. Survival was an instinct she’d been born with. Through the falling water, she aimed her brother towards her car and they scrambled in. The sound of police sirens rivaled the thunder. There were demons behind Cassandra and her brother and Manasseh slammed the door in their faces as the pair of humans drove away. Rayner was nowhere near or Manasseh would have felt it. Satisfied his two songbirds were out of harm’s way, he cloaked himself and took to the sky, wings unfolding to the length of two men. He had to take care of Obadiah. And afterwards there were places he had to be and preparations he had to make. If he hadn’t known it before, he knew it now. Time was getting short.

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Chapter Four Cassandra & Johnny “We should have stayed,” she moaned, “and talked to the police.” A police cruiser raced past in the rain and screeched up in front of the bar. The night around them was a kaleidoscope of undulating colors muted by a heavy mist of rain. “What would we have told them?” Johnny put his face in his hands and slouched back against the seat. Rain dripped from his clothes and pounded on the outside of the car. “Who knows what or who started that ruckus. We didn’t. Besides,” he added under his breath, “I kinda owe a few parking tickets. If they run my name on their computers, they’ll haul me in. And I don’t have money for the tickets or bail.” Cassandra pulled the car over to the side of the road. “Oh, Johnny, I thought you straightened that out months ago. Didn’t I give you the money?” “I spent it on something else.” Sheepishly. “Rent, I think. Or groceries.” “Oh, Johnny.” “Sorry. Promise I’ll clear it up soon as I get some extra cash.” Behind his head, a branch crashed against the outside of the window. “You better. Right now, let me look at that cut.” Always the big sister, she reached over and pushed his hair off his forehead so she could see the wound. The car rocked and the wind howled. She was worried she’d gotten her guitar wet in the dash from the bar because

Page 35 she hadn’t had time to slip it into its case, but she was more concerned about her brother. The beer bottle had hit him in the forehead and there was blood flowing down the side of his face. “It’s not that bad, Sis.” He pushed her hands away. “I’m still conscious.” “Let me see.” “Told you I’m okay.” His voice was petulant. Since the fire, she knew she was overly protective, but couldn’t stop herself. “I’m no baby, you know.” His fingers felt up around his hairline and came away bloody. From the overhead car light, she could see the queasy look spread across his face. Cassandra ignored his protests. There was too much blood. “Oh, oh, I think you’re gonna need stitches, little brother.” “I can’t afford to go to the hospital for no stitches, neither,” he complained, glaring out at the raindrops. Lightning flashed and lit up his face, Cassandra could see the fear in his eyes. Since the fire and the time he’d spent recovering as a kid in the hospital from trauma and smoke inhalation, he’d hated hospitals and doctors and stayed away from them if he could. Cassandra may have walked away from the fire with the visible scars, but Johnny had the invisible kind, her Aunt Ellie always said. He’d heard the dying screams of his brothers and sisters and physical pain wasn’t all that haunted him in his nightmares. “You need medical care.” In a voice lower than before, he replied, “Don’t have any medical insurance.” “You let your coverage lapse again?” “Too darn expensive. The premium kept going up. Who can afford it?” “Yeah, well, it’ll be a lot more expensive now when I take you in for those stitches.” She gave him a disapproving look. “I’m not going.” “Yes, you are—”

Page 36 “No, I’m not—” “Yes, you are! I have money I can loan you.” “Cassie, I don’t want your money. You’re saving it for that new microphone you’ve been drooling over for the last month.” Both their microphones were secondhand junk, but Cassandra’s was the worst. It was always squealing during her solo songs. He tried to change the subject. “Good thing we grabbed our guitars before the bar came down on top of us. I wish we’d gotten the rest of the stuff out, too. If we’re lucky it’ll be there tomorrow. If not, then we’re going to need new equipment. You better hold onto that money.” “Let’s hope everything will still be there, but that’s not what bothers me now. We’re talking about you needing medical attention. At the moment, that’s more important. If you have to go to the ER, we’ll go and I’ll put it on my credit card. Case closed. I can get a microphone anytime, but I only have one brother.” Their eyes met and he nodded. “Okay. I’m feeling dizzy and I’m not up to arguing.” He leaned against the window. “Trying not to pass out,” he whispered. In the wet dark, Cassandra thought for a moment she saw black shadows creeping around the car, hiding with the help of the storm; crowding against the windows as if they were peering in. For a moment. She shook her head. It must be her imagination. Her attention returned to Johnny. She turned on the car’s overhead light. “Let me get a better look at the damage and then I’ll decide what to do.” She moved closer, tilted his chin up, and put her fingers on the edge of the cut. She softly felt along the wound until her whole hand covered it, flesh against flesh, and warmth flickered and glowed around and beneath her hand. It startled her slightly. Her brother’s eyes widened and the pink crept back into his face. Cassandra was puzzled as her fingers, for a second time, explored his forehead. “I could have sworn I felt something

Page 37 for a second. A wound or a deep slash. I mean, there’s blood all over you…but…there’s nothing there now.” She tugged a Kleenex from the glove compartment and swiped the blood off Johnny’s forehead. “There’s only blood, no injury beneath it. As far as I can see you’re unharmed. “I was wrong. You’re not hurt one bit.” Then where had all the blood come from? The words died before she spoke them. Strange, there had been some kind of gash there, she’d been sure of it, but she’d touched it and it had…healed. No, that was her imagination, too. That was crazy. Maybe a bottle had actually hit her on the noggin. She just hadn’t seen or felt it. “I feel better. Pain’s gone.” Johnny straightened up, grinning at her. He touched his head. “Wow, that was weird. I could have sworn I was cut. I mean it hurt and everything. I was sick from it. But it was nothing. Boy, what a relief.” He let out a sigh as Cassandra switched off the light and stared into the rainy night. Her mind was tumbling in circles at the odd things that’d been happening to her lately. Some small. Some large. They all mystified her. W hat was going on? Her eyes went to the murky shapes surrounding the car again. She could have sworn they’d multiplied and were surging against the glass as if they were gathering their courage to attack. Drawn to her and Johnny like fire to wood. Another minute…. Oh, please. “Johnny, it was nothing. You’re fine. Well, we can’t say that about Morey’s bar now, can we? That it was nothing?” she breathed. Beneath her conversation with her brother she was beginning to feel uneasy. As if there was something wrong. Something else. Something close by that could hurt them, would hurt them if it were given the chance. The shapes slinking away low to the ground? She wanted to leave. “No, it was a mess all right. We might not have a joint to sing at once the rubble settles.” “My thinking exactly. I still feel bad about us running away like we did.” But she couldn’t risk her brother being taken in for questioning, of being accused of participating in

Page 38 the fracas, not with all those tickets he had over his head and the blood all over him. “Tomorrow we’ll see what’s left of the place. Find out if we have a job anymore.” Cassandra put the key in the ignition, her intuition of danger nearby making her hurry, and turned on the car. She switched on the headlights and the shadows scattered as she drove off. Her thoughts were on the men who’d tossed the first bottles in the bar. She’d glanced at them as she and Johnny had skedaddled and thought she saw what she’d seen before…not human faces, but grotesque, leering gargoyle faces. The worse so far. Had someone drugged her soda? Snap out of it, she chided herself, and thrust the images away. The car turned towards Johnny’s apartment. There was nothing else to do but go home. Call it a night. In the morning, they’d see Morey, apologize for running out like they had, assess the destruction, retrieve their belongings, and see if they still had a job. After being silent for a while, Johnny asked, “What was that bar fight about anyway? Did you see who started it and why?” “I think those guys at the front table to our right started it.” “Oh, the ugly ones with the facial hair and sunglasses?” “That would be them.” “I guess they didn’t like our singing.” “You think?” “But hated it enough they had to throw glass bottles at our heads?” Johnny chuckled. “A little much overkill, wouldn’t you say?” “I would.” She shrugged and twisted the steering wheel. “They were pretty drunk. Could be that’s the explanation. You know how some people get when they drink too much.” “Fighting mean.” Johnny rubbed his eyes. “Just our luck. Shame they had to trash Morey’s bar, though. Thank goodness

Page 39 he wasn’t there tonight. He would have tried to break up the fight.” “Yeah, and might have got himself hurt.” Morey had been a bouncer at an assortment of bars when he’d been young and still thought he could throw a punch like a man two decades his junior. He couldn’t. His arthritis wouldn’t let him. “Boy, Sis. They were smashing the booze and the mirrors behind the bar as we were getting out of there. See that? Front window shattered. Broken tables, chairs, everything. It’ll cost a fortune to make it right. Poor Morey. Poor us. I liked working there. A lot.” Cassandra exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “We should give Morey a hand cleaning and fixing it up if he needs it.” That would be a way to assuage her guilty conscience a little for hightailing it as they had. “For a price right?” She sent a sideways grin at him, not taking her eyes off what was in front of her. “I suppose we could ask for some money. Heaven knows we need it. We’re both handy with a dustpan and a broom and, thanks to Uncle George, we know how to use a saw and a nail gun.” Their uncle was a carpenter and had taught them well, believing a person could always use building skills and he’d been right. They’d saved a load of money by remodeling their uncle’s house themselves. She didn’t want to worry her brother, but the rain was coming down so hard, the winds so strong, she could hardly stay on the street much less see it. The wind shimmied the car all over the place. And ending up wrecked in a flooded ditch somewhere wasn’t what they needed to end their perfect night. “First thing tomorrow we’ll go in and offer our services to Morey then, huh, Sis?” “I think we should. Least we can do.” Right then what she wanted was to get her and Johnny home. Get safe and dry behind solid walls. Forget about the strangeness of the night they’d just come through. Climb into bed and sleep.

Page 40 “You think Morey’s going to pay us for tonight?” Her brother was making funny doodles on the foggy window with his fingers. Cassandra laughed softly. “We played less than two hours, Johnny. Maybe he’ll half pay us since two hours is half of four.” “Be better than nothing. I need the money no matter how little it is.” “You,” she retorted, “always need money.” “Doesn’t everyone?” he quipped, but there was weariness in his voice. “Gosh, I’m tired. Being caught in a bar fight takes it out of a person.” “I’ll say.” And seeing her brother hurt had taken it out of her. But he hadn’t been hurt, thank God. He was okay. She looked at him and felt what she always felt. Unconditional love. He was all she had left of them. Her family. Her three sisters, two brothers, and mother and father. They were all dead and gone twenty years now. How swiftly time had passed. Yet she still missed each one of them so much. She was blessed to have Johnny and never forgot it. Not for one millisecond. Maybe that was why she couldn’t get mad at him about anything, not his carelessness with money or his nonchalant approach towards life. To her, he would forever be the boy he had been when he’d thrust his small trusting face up towards hers, the flames reflected in his terrified eyes, as she led him from their burning house that night so long ago. She’d saved him then, but he’d saved her in so many ways so many times since. She’d lay her life down for him or Aunt Ellie or Uncle George. They were her family now. She’d have to say a prayer before bed thanking God that Johnny hadn’t been hurt and light a candle before mass on Sunday. Make that two candles: One for her brother’s near escape and one for the souls of her dead family. Strange thing was she could have sworn that beer bottle had hit Johnny. She was sure she’d seen the cut and the blood.

Page 41 Forget it. He’s fine. That’s all that matters. “Now that we don’t have to go to the hospital and I’ve saved you all that money…are you hungry, Cassie? Want to hit a drive-through and pick up hamburgers to eat at my place?” “You don’t have any food at home?” “There’s not a thing at my apartment fit to eat. I swear. Not even enough for a mouse.” “You got any money on you?” she countered teasingly. He pulled something from his pocket and waved it around. “Whoa, I found a twenty dollar bill. Doggone. Imagine that.” “Yeah, imagine that. But weren’t you going to use that to fix your car?” “I’ll worry about that tomorrow. Right now I’m hungry.” “All right. You treat, then.” She chuckled. “But I can’t believe after what happened to us tonight you can think about food.” “Hungry, that’s why.” Typical. She shook her head. A McDonald’s loomed up ahead on her left. “You’re always hungry. But never mind, the drive-through will get us off the road and out of this heavy rain for a couple of minutes. Maybe the deluge will slack off by the time we’re through.” Before she turned off the highway, something skittered out in front of the car and she narrowly missed it. A wispy, floating snake of a thing that crept from among the wet, shadowed trees along side of the road. W hat the hell? It’d been a bad night. She was still imagining things. That’s all. Calm down. Get a grip. Get a cheeseburger. A large shake with extra chocolate. That’d help. Warm food always did. Back at Johnny’s apartment, a dingy little dwelling he had the nerve to call home, the cheeseburger and shake filled her stomach and took the edge off her nerves. She and Johnny made jokes about the bar fight and how frightened they’d been. Talking about it put it in perspective. It’d been a close call, but they’d gotten out of it in one piece. Just a part of the

Page 42 bar life. She had other problems. The whole trip back to her flat, driving carefully through the pelting rain, she couldn’t focus on anything but the strange things she’d been seeing; the strange way she felt. Her perception was subtly distorted and everything felt…unreal lately. She hadn’t felt this way since the night of the fire. Bad enough she could see the soon to be departed, but now those other things, too? Perhaps she was crazy. One of those thousands of people who lived on the fringe of normal sanity. Not quite nuts, but not quite in her right mind, either. She’d touched Johnny’s wound and it’d disappeared. Yeah, sure. She was relieved to get home, because nothing could hurt her there. No apparitions or wispy creatures hiding in her closets or in the dark corners. Her aunt and uncle had the house blessed by a priest every year. She was protected there.

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Chapter Five Cassandra Parking the car, Cassandra would have made a run for the outside stairs to her residence, but seeing the lights on at her aunt and uncle’s, she detoured and knocked on their door first. It was just after eleven, so they might be awake, or her uncle anyway. A night owl, he often stayed up to watched television while Ellie went to bed early. Her uncle answered the door with a smile. “What the heck you doing home so early, sweet pea? You two didn’t get fired, did ya?” Once, he’d been a big, tall man whom the passing years and hard times had shrunk. His long iron-gray hair was streaked with white and his kind blue eyes were rimmed in age lines. But his caring nature and smile were always genuine. “No, we didn’t get fired, but I didn’t feel like going home yet. I need to talk. If you put a pot of coffee on, I’ll tell you all about it.” “I was thinking myself how nice a cup of java would be with those cinnamon rolls I made this morning. Got ’em from a can. You know, the kind you tap on the sink and it pops open? But they’re not bad. Sit down. First I’ll fetch a towel so you can dry off. You look like a drowned kitten.” He hobbled out of the kitchen. His legs must be hurting him again. “Start talking,” he said from the other room. “My hearing’s the one thing that hasn’t gone yet.” That’s what he thought. Lots of times she’d say something and he’d mishear it. But she’d never tell him that because she

Page 44 didn’t want to hurt him. As she settled into a kitchen chair, her uncle returned with the towel, tossed it at her, and stood at the sink making coffee. His hands moved slowly and his shoulders sagged. It was awful, she thought, watching him get old. “We had a bit of trouble tonight at the bar.” She dried her face and hair. “A couple of yahoos decided to start a free-forall and the place got a little busted up, I’m afraid.” “Anyone get hurt?” “Nah, don’t think so,” she fibbed. No sense in upsetting her uncle with the truth. “You two okay?” She didn’t tell him about wrongly thinking Johnny had gotten hurt. She didn’t tell him about the men in the crowd whose faces melted to reveal monsters underneath. Oh, no. She didn’t tell him any of that. “Sure. We left before it got too rowdy. It was only a fight.” Another lie. There’d been massive property destruction and people had gotten hurt. She’d seen the damage; heard the shocked cries of pain. Her head was spinning from the bad memories. “Oh, my,” he clucked as the coffee began to perk. He took the rolls out of the microwave. Cassandra liked them warm. “You two had quite an exciting night. At least there were no casualties. Except for Morey’s bar. I hope you still have a job.” Her uncle placed the rolls on the table. “Me, too.” She’d had enough of talking about the fight, so she picked up a roll and sunk her teeth into it. “Thank you, these cinnamon buns taste so good. They hit the spot. “So, how was your and Aunt Ellie’s day?” Cassandra hadn’t seen either of them all day. She’d been out running errands and tidying her apartment. “Uneventful. The way I like it. Ellie helped me make breakfast, did the cleaning up by herself, and was fine company…for most of the day. Until after supper, when she threw a fit and broke a couple pieces of our best china because she thought I’d called her a name. Oh, and that I’d

Page 45 been cheating on her with that painted neighbor lady.” He snorted, canting his thumb in the general direction of the woman’s house. “She threw a hissy-fit tantrum over it.” “She didn’t?” “Yeah, she did. But the name calling and that cheating stuff is all in her mind, you know.” He tapped the side of his head with his finger, his smile sad. “Of course it is.” Cassandra laid a hand over his. “You okay? You look tired.” “Oh, I’m fine. And I should look tired.” A quick grin. “It’s after my bedtime.” Uncle George was the sweetest of men, devoted to his wife, and certainly not the kind to fool around with anyone, especially the woman next door. Mrs. Valerie Tyler, a widow, was nice and all, but a clown would envy the amount of cosmetics she wore and her behavior reminded Cassandra of someone who didn’t always live in the real world. Even Cassandra’s friend, Sarah, thought Mrs. Tyler was a little off. And for Sarah to say that was saying a lot. Sarah was the queen of off. “I hate this illness Ellie has,” her uncle muttered, gazing around, exasperation and loneliness etched into his face. His hands around his coffee cup shook slightly. “Never know what she’s going to do next. Never know if my Ellie is with me at any time or if that other Ellie is.” He referred to Ellie’s acting out as the other Ellie, the one who was often hateful, demanding, and childishly bad. The one who was showing herself more and more each day. Though they rarely talked about it openly and Ellie hadn’t actually been medically diagnosed, because her uncle kept putting the tests off, they strongly suspected Ellie had early Alzheimer’s. It ran in Ellie’s family. Her father and her late sister, Mabel, had had it. Ellie had slowly begun showing symptoms in the last year, but George and Cassandra couldn’t face the truth yet. It was a little overwhelming. Another bite of roll went into Cassandra’s mouth. Sitting

Page 46 in her uncle and aunt’s cozy kitchen with the sunflower curtains and cheery wallpaper comforted her and made the memories of the night seem distant. It was the only home Johnny and she had known since their sprawling childhood house on the hill had burnt down. Though Johnny had moved out, it was still home. She was grateful for the privacy of her upper floor, but enjoyed spending as much time with the old folks as she could. Her uncle needed the company. He didn’t get out as much as he used to because of Ellie’s condition and became depressed if left alone too long. Ellie wasn’t always good company for him. “You know,” her uncle said, “Ellie hides in our room when she gets mad at me. She escapes from the house, her prison as she calls it, by climbing out the window and high tails it for parts unknown.” Cassandra thought he’d laugh, but he didn’t. “This morning I had to put a fancy iron grill over our bedroom window. To keep her in. It does the job, but it makes the room look like a cell. Ellie got so mad at me for that—for a few hours, then she forgot what she was mad at me for. That happens all the time now. She’s been forgetting a lot lately. I don’t know what I’m going to do…if she gets any worse.” “It’ll be okay, you’ll see.” Cassandra patted her uncle’s bowed shoulders and said to him what he’d said so many times to her over the years. “I’ll help you. We can handle this. Johnny will help. You’ll see.” Then she added, “People grow old. Get sick. It’s life, you know?” “Yeah, life.” This time her uncle smiled. “Thank God for you and Johnny. I don’t know what we’d do without you two.” “You’d make it. But you don’t have to do without us. We’re here.” Cassandra returned the smile. If only he knew. He was depending on her and Johnny as if they had all the answers, with their youth and strength, and she was beginning to wonder if she was even sane. And Johnny? He could barely take care of himself, much less two old people. Yeah, life.

Page 47 Wasn’t it grand? On the other side of the kitchen window, the wind wailed and lightning struck the earth. Thunder roared. The storm was close. Cassandra couldn’t take her eyes off the fireworks. She’d read a newspaper article that morning about the dangers of lightning strikes and how hundreds of people died each year from them. It made a person think twice about going out in a storm, standing under a tree, turning on the water faucet, taking a shower, or even being on the phone because lightning could travel through pipes and lines. If a person thought about it too much, along with the other horrible things that could happen, it’d make them want to jump off a bridge. So she tried not to think about it. “Some weather we’re having, hey?” Her uncle’s eyes had strayed to the world beyond the windows as well. He was fond of storms, the power and flash, while his wife was terrified of them. “Wild.” “Real wild. Wasn’t sure I was going to make it home. I couldn’t see a doggone thing the rain was so heavy. Almost had a wreck.” The next lightning bolt lit up the room and her uncle’s wrinkled face. “This weather? T’ain’t natural, I say. These storms have a mind of their own. Not like normal storms. They make me itchy in my own skin. But it’s prophesied that the weather will be terrible in the last days.” Here they went again. He had that look on his face and Cassandra got ready for what she knew was coming next. Her uncle and aunt were devoted churchgoers—true believers in the Book of Revelations—and raised her and Johnny to be the same. And they believed fervently that they were in the end times. That the Rapture and all it heralded was near. Her uncle wasn’t a raving end-of-the-world fanatic; he merely accepted it like he accepted the sun rising in the morning. He didn’t preach nonstop, he talked softly about it when someone asked. That’s all. He’d read the whole Left Behind series. The tattered paperbacks were now tucked away under her living

Page 48 room coffee table. She hadn’t had time to read them yet, but she planned to. Someday. But her uncle and aunt truly believed. “You need to read those books I gave ya,” he said. “Right away.” “I know, I know,” she mumbled under her breath. “There isn’t much time left.” She didn’t actually swallow that truth. She merely humored her uncle. People had been saying for millenniums that the end was near and would probably be saying it for millenniums to come. God’s time clock, she reckoned, wasn’t anything like man’s. “It’s just a storm, Uncle, that’s all.” But listening to it, she wasn’t so sure. The weather did seem more severe, the storms more frequent the last few months. “No, I don’t think so,” he replied. “Can’t you feel it? There’s a smothering heaviness to the air and the clouds are so odd, darkly layered and angry-looking all the time. The rain is so torrential. No gentle showers for us anymore.” “Perhaps,” she teased, “you should start building an ark, huh?” He played along. “Or a bomb shelter beneath the house.” “A bomb shelter?” “For the trials of the end times. So we’ll be out of harm’s way from the rioting crowds and the anti-Christ’s edicts.” “Oh, you mean the seven years of tribulation?” Her tone was dismissive. “You don’t really believe we’ll see that in our lifetime, do you?” It was a silly thing to ask a believer, yet she couldn’t stop herself. It was late. She was weary and didn’t believe for a second that the end was near. No way. “I don’t know.” He was studying the rain. It was hitting the panes so hard it was a miracle the glass didn’t crack. “All the biblical signs have been falling into place now for years. Just you wait until all those people disappear in the Rapture. All gone in the blink of an eye.” He snapped his fingers in the air. “Then you’ll believe.” Ha, if that happened a lot of people would believe, she

Page 49 thought. Even her. And the world would go insane. She definitely didn’t want to be there for that. Who would? She didn’t say another word, didn’t believe, but loved her uncle too much to make fun of him, so steered the conversation in another direction. “Did you balance your checkbook this morning like you said you were going to do?” “Nah, I was too busy with Ellie and putting the window bars in. You can do it for me tomorrow if you want.” He winked at her. “You’re better at the figuring than me anyways.” It was a subtle capitulation on her uncle’s part. They went through their little game every month. Cassandra would wait for him to do his finances and when he came up with a plausible excuse not to, she did them for him. It saved his pride. She’d begun balancing their bank statements and checking their accounts the year before, after their electricity had been turned off for lack of payment. Her uncle had forgotten to log in some checks, forgotten to pay a couple bills and had become confused to what he’d paid and what he hadn’t. From then on, if it dealt with money, she knew she had to keep an eye on it for them. Then there were the tricky medical issues. Her aunt and uncle couldn’t be trusted when it came to scheduling or keeping doctor or dentist appointments, and, anyway, they couldn’t drive anymore, either. She had to see to it all now. Paperwork, too. And it was a handful at times. Ellie had endless doctor appointments and Uncle George had had two surgeries the year before. “If you’re not too tired, can I show you something? I got this weird bill today from Ellie’s doctor. Can’t make heads or tails of the thing.” She didn’t hesitate. “Okay, sure. Let me look at it.” He fetched the bill. They drank more coffee and she did her best to explain what the endless columns of figures

Page 50 meant, but it was so full of the usual medical gobbledygook she could hardly decipher it herself. Couldn’t they make these things any easier to understand? They saw plenty of doctors and there were a mountain of these-are-not-bills and real bills to sift through. Lately, they never seemed to stop coming and made her ache to have a big old bonfire. Stupid hospitals and insurance companies. The phone rang. It was Johnny. “I knew you’d be with Uncle George. I tried your flat first and when you didn’t answer I figured you’d be downstairs. I’m just checking up on you and them, what with all this bad weather and all.” “Yeah, and after the crazy night you and I had, right?” “You got it.” Johnny’s voice was hesitant. “It was a weird night, wasn’t it?” “Humph. I’ll say. But I’m—we’re all—okay. I got home without being swept away by the winds or the rain. And glad I did. The storm’s worse now.” She had a visual image of Johnny’s bleeding head. “Question is, how are you doing?” “Done in. But other than that, I’m okay, too. I was—” There was a crash in the hallway. “Johnny, talk to Uncle George for a minute. I have to go check something out real quick.” Handing the phone to her uncle, she went to see what had made the noise. Soon after, she rushed back into the kitchen. “Tell Johnny to get off the phone. Aunt Ellie’s gone! That noise was a limb coming through the hallway window. The window is wide open. She must have gotten out of her room and climbed out. She’s outside somewhere…in this rain.” “Oh, no, not again. Third time this week.” Her uncle’s face went slack. “She’s out there lost in this storm. Lost. Oh, Ellie!” His body sagged into his chair as he laid the phone down on the table. Johnny was still squawking on the other end. “I have to go out and find her.” “I’ll help.” Cassandra picked up the phone as her uncle went to get flashlights and raincoats for them. She told Johnny what was going on.

Page 51 “I’ll come over and help look for her,” he offered. “You don’t have a car.” “I can bum a ride off a friend if I have to.” “This late at night? In the middle of this storm? No. Besides, there isn’t time. Stay there. We’ll handle this. Uncle George looked in on her a few minutes ago, so she can’t have gone far. We’ll find her. Don’t fret. Gotta go.” “Call me when you do,” Johnny squeezed in, “so I don’t have to worry all night.” “I will.” She hung up the phone. George came into the kitchen with his hands full and handed Cassandra a large flashlight and Ellie’s yellow raincoat to wear. He was in a hurry. “Let’s go.” “Any idea where she might have wandered off to?” “No—yes…we had that fight over our neighbor Mrs. Tyler. Maybe she’s gone over there to confront her. Heaven help us. No telling what she’ll say or do to that poor woman. I should warn you, Ellie’s been more volatile today than usual. We better get over there pronto.” After they searched the yard, she followed her uncle to Mrs. Tyler’s front door. It was difficult to see anything, much less a tiny woman, in the driving rain, but they’d seen no Ellie. No Ellie huddled against a wall crying. No Ellie scurrying across the yards between the trees and peeking into windows. No Ellie anywhere. Mrs. Tyler’s door opened after the first knock and Cassandra got a shock. Standing behind it was that strange man in black she’d bumped into the other night outside the house. The one who had made her skin chill. Great. He must be one of Valerie’s boarders. “Hello, sorry to bother you on such a night, sir, but we’re looking for my wife,” George spoke first as he came up on the covered porch. Cassandra had stepped beside her uncle as he introduced first her and then himself to the man. Seeing the stranger again gave her a creepy feeling. Her blood itched in her veins and weird sensations barraged her.

Page 52 And even with the lateness of the hour and the rainstorm, it had to be eighty-five degrees outside, but she could almost see the air around him, full of ice particles in a bubble, as being frosty. The man was staring at her. “My wife’s name is Ellie Graystone and she’s about so high.” Her uncle raised his hand five feet or so. He looked pathetic in his worn raincoat and his anxious furrowed face. “She’s got gray hair, blue eyes and…well…she’s not been herself recently. We think she’s got this Alzheimer’s sickness and tends to mosey all over the place. Ya seen her?” It was the first time Cassandra had ever heard her uncle say the word Alzheimer’s out loud to someone other than her. Her heart broke for him. “No, I haven’t,” the stranger said. “Sorry.” “Hasn’t been here, has she, hanging around outside, peering in the windows? Bugging Mrs. Tyler?” “No.” The man was examining Cassandra. Turning her head away, she had the urge to run, but wasn’t going to let him know how he affected her. Why was she reacting this way to a stranger? She had no idea, but it puzzled her. Sometimes she’d meet people she didn’t care for, people who made her uneasy for some unknown reason, but she’d never felt this strong a repulsion before. “You must be one of Valerie’s renters?” Her uncle said. “I am.” The man stood in the doorway, a subtle light shaping his tall form. “The only one right now.” Cassandra wondered where his landlady was and why he’d answered the door, but didn’t ask. She only wanted to get away from him. “Well, we’re sorry to have disturbed you, Mr.—?” She’d found her voice and interrupted her uncle or he would have gone on chatting aimlessly. He disliked being rude to people and sometimes that made it hard for him to end a conversation, especially with strangers. “Rayner. Just Rayner.” A tiny smile twisted his thin mouth.

Page 53 “Yes. We’ll be going now. Excuse us.” She took her uncle’s arm to lead him away. “We have to find my aunt.” “Can I help? I have excellent night vision and don’t mind getting wet.” Cassandra had to look twice. There was this dark silhouette throbbing round him. She’d never seen anything like it before and knew she was the one staring now. She dragged her gaze away. “No, thank you. We can’t ask you to come out in this mess. You don’t know us.” “Oh, but I insist.” Before she could protest again, the man was out the door and alongside them. No raincoat or umbrella. No nothing. The rain reshaped into a mist around him. He’d moved so impossibly quickly. He’s not human, the thought again came to her. His proximity made her nervous, so she pivoted around and went out into the storm with her uncle trailing behind her. If the stranger, Rayner, wanted to tag along, without a raincoat or boots, let him. She was too concerned about her aunt to waste any more time on him. “Let’s split up,” she announced loudly. “Uncle, you head that way.” She pointed to the left. “I’ll go this way.” Her head cocked to the right. “And,” she said to Rayner, “you can go that way, if you would.” Sending him somewhere in between and away from her and her uncle. The three split up. They combed the yards and the fringe of the park across the street in the rain, sloshing through mud and weeds, flashlights bouncing through the gloom. If Ellie had gone into the park, Cassandra thought frantically, they’d never find her. But lately Ellie seemed afraid of the park with all its shadowy trees so Cassandra hoped she’d stayed away from it. She didn’t know how Rayner could see anything. He didn’t have a flashlight. She didn’t care—as long as he stayed away from her. The rain continued to fall. It was heavy one minute and a meager drizzle the next. At times, as lightning and thunder

Page 54 shimmered around her, she saw Rayner scrutinizing her from a distance as if he were stalking her instead of looking for her aunt. He gave her the willies. But no Ellie. Cassandra searched through the adjacent yards and finally gave up the hunt, as the storm became a downpour, she could barely see through much less move through. Exhausted and frustrated, she worried about her uncle. He shouldn’t be traipsing around in the storm, anyway. He was an old man. How could she have let him go off by himself? He could be lost now, too. Where had her brain been? But it wasn’t as if she could have stopped him. He was a stubborn man. Where was that old woman? She went to find her uncle. It’d been a long day. After another half hour of stumbling through the rain, she knew it was time to bring in help. Call the police. Heading to the house, she prayed her uncle had been luckier, had found Ellie, and they’d both be in their warm dry kitchen when she returned. She didn’t know where their next door neighbor was and didn’t care. Under the circumstances, Valerie’s boarder was the least of her worries. She was rounding the corner of their house, walking across the front yard towards the kitchen entrance, and saw her uncle kneeling in the bushes alongside the building holding a soaked, muddy, and crying Ellie in his arms. Thank God! Cassandra was running towards them when she noticed Rayner in the shadows by the porch observing her aunt and uncle. His eyes, when they met hers, glinted red as burning rubies. She froze. Some inner sense warned her to be careful. That here was peril. Here was an enemy. The power of the warning jolted her so much she all but fell to her knees. So she was poised in the middle of the yard like a statue

Page 55 when the lightning struck. A missile, it came from the skies and blossomed out like the limbs of an electric willow tree with her in the center, the trunk. The bolts crackled and swam around her in a perfect round dome and slowly dissipated into the ground…leaving her stunned and quivering…but untouched. It was a miracle she hadn’t been fried. As she’d read in the newspaper, people died of lightning strikes all the time. She was lucky to be alive. Dazed, she lurched towards her aunt and uncle. George was staring at her in amazement and even Ellie’s attention was riveted on her. Her aunt stopped weeping and Uncle George helped her up from the ground. Rayner was by their side, assisting George with Ellie, but his eyes were on Cassandra, a sly smile curving up his lips. His long hair hung limply around his sharp white face; his clothes were wet and molded to his gaunt body. He lifted Ellie up in his arms as if she’d been weightless and strode in the direction of the house. Her uncle tagged along happily in his wake. Cassandra didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want that man in their house. Yet there was no way to deny him and be gracious at the same time. She followed them. They were in the kitchen, the light and the dryness of the room enfolding them. “Thank God you found her, Uncle George,” Cassandra exclaimed. She was trembling from her close call with death, but was so relieved they’d found Ellie she swept it out of her mind. For a while. Almost. “I didn’t find her. Our neighbor here did.” Her uncle cocked his head at Rayner, who acknowledged the gesture with a tilt of his own. “Then he found me and took me right to her. Man’s got owl eyes. Yep.” Rayner had put Ellie into a chair and was looking around the kitchen as if he were taking notes; when he wasn’t studying Cassandra. His skin was frozen ice. It gleamed in

Page 56 the light. His movements reminded her of a spider and so did his eyes. Black. Cold. Glittering. There was an agitation to his manner as if he wasn’t used to being walled in or to being around people. So odd. Uncle George picked up the same towel Cassandra had used earlier and dried Ellie’s face, a face filled with confusion and fear. And one Cassandra had begun to see too often. Poor Ellie. She didn’t know where she was. She’d forgotten. Clinging to George, she murmured, “Why have I been thrown into a den of lions? There’s danger everywhere…I had to hide. I have to hide.” “You’re safe now, Aunt Ellie,” Cassandra reassured her. “There are no lions here.” “Yes, yes there are.” The old woman glared at Rayner. Her frightened eyes never left him. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying,” Uncle George said. “I’m taking her to our room and after I get her out of these wet clothes and cleaned up, I’m putting her to bed.” He regarded Rayner, who was leaning against the sink counter. “Thank you for finding her, neighbor. Sorry I can’t stay and chitchat. Come on over later and we’ll share a cup of coffee. I owe you that and more.” “Thank you, I will,” Rayner replied in a flat voice, but his gaze was on Cassandra. As George led Ellie away, she swung towards her niece and grabbed her hands, tugged her closer so she’d hear. “Sorry I led you on such a merry chase.” She chuckled, a twinkle of the old Ellie hiding in her eyes. There was a streak of mud down one cheek that George had missed and her hair was a wild mess spiking out in every direction around her head. “But sometimes, Cassie,” she whispered, “I feel as if my world has become so small. I need to get out. Escape from the lions. Things keep slipping away, you know? Memories, feelings, and pieces of me slipping away. I want to experience things. Now. Feel the rain and the wind on my skin. Smell the

Page 57 warmth of the night. Run. While I still can. You aren’t mad at me, are you? Making you all go out in the rain and look for me?” “No, we’re not mad at you. It isn’t your fault. I know, Aunt Ellie. I know. Now go on with George and get some rest. It’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow and we’ll talk, have a long visit.” Cassandra watched her aunt being shuffled off and felt a familiar sadness. Once, the woman had been so vibrant, present, and inquisitive. She’d been an elementary school teacher for over thirty years. A good one. Now, half the time she didn’t even know who or where she was. She’d become one of the helpless children she’d once taught. She knew her husband most of the time, but Cassandra and Johnny not as much lately. “Get that man out of the house,” her aunt was bellowing in the hallway. “He’s evil. Evil! Get him out of our house, you hear me, George?” The words hit Cassandra hard. She knew who her aunt was referring to and stole a look at Rayner. Ellie’s accusation hadn’t fazed him. His expression was as blank as a rock. “Sorry, she isn’t herself.” But her aunt had said exactly what she’d been thinking. “I see that.” There was no compassion in his voice. No humanness. His eyes had no pupils. He wasn’t moving. Hardly breathing. “Thank you for helping us. You didn’t have to. So thank you.” She couldn’t say his name and lowered her eyes so he wouldn’t see how uncomfortable she was. Like Ellie, she wanted him away from her. Out of their kitchen. Out of their house. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what, but something wasn’t right about him. No matter how much he ingratiated himself with her or her uncle, she was wary. And it was bothering her more than she’d acknowledge. “It’s been a real hard night. Could you please leave now?”

Page 58 “Of course. I understand. It’s been, er, a pleasure meeting you and your family.” His lips did that smiling imitation again. “Formally, this time.” “This time?” she said it aloud before she could stop herself. “Remember the other night when we ran into each other outside in the yard? I should have introduced myself then, but you…startled me, I’m afraid. I wasn’t very friendly. I’m sorry.” So he did remember. “Don’t worry about it. I was the one who ran into you. I’m the one who should be sorry.” Cassandra didn’t believe he was sorry at all. He was interested in her for some other reason. To be friends? She didn’t think so. There was more she could have said, explained why she’d been in such a rush, why she’d reacted the way she had, but she didn’t. She just wanted him out of her house. Rayner didn’t take the hint. “Can I ask you something before I go?” She didn’t want to say yes, but curiosity got the best of her. “What?” “What did you mean the other night when you said to me I wasn’t a ghost, but wasn’t human either? That was an odd thing to say. What were you talking about?” So he’d heard that, too? Oh, my. He was serious; wanted an answer. She couldn’t give him the real one so she fabricated a quick substitute and hoped he’d swallow it. “Ah, that? I was just being whimsical. I’m a horror fan. See all the movies, read all the books. You surprised me, that’s all. Coming out of the night the way you did...like some vampire from out of a scary movie. I didn’t see you until the last second. Took me off guard. I said the first silly thing off the top of my head. Forget it.” Out of nowhere she had the urge to tell him the truth, but she fought it and won. She knew better than to doubt her intuitions and only knew she mustn’t let this man close to her. Mustn’t let him know how she really felt. “I saw the lightning strike you, Cassandra.”

Page 59 “You saw that?” She answered way too quickly to hide her surprise. “Nah, it missed me. I was real lucky, I guess.” He arched a dark eyebrow at her and she had the notion he was willing her to do something. Confess what really happened, perhaps? It wasn’t working. “Ah. My mistake. I was sure it hit you and it looked almost as if there were some sort of…protective shield around you.” “Like a force field?” She lifted her shoulders, casually brushing his remark off. She didn’t want him to know she was as amazed by what had occurred as he. That she had no answer for it, along with the rest of the eerie stuff that had befallen her lately. At the moment, with him examining her, she didn’t want to dwell on it. She purposely cleared her mind. “Yes.” “That’s science fiction, isn’t it? If it had hit me, I’d be dead. You didn’t see it right because of the rain and wind, that’s all. It missed me.” She opened the door, stood by it. Making it clear he was to leave. “Good night, and again, thanks for finding my aunt. We really appreciate it.” He was waiting for something, but she gently sent him out into the rain anyway, closed the door, and finally released the shudder she’d been holding in for so long. She phoned Johnny to let him know they’d found Ellie. “I’m so relieved,” he said. “I was about to call a buddy of mine, get that ride, and come over there, storm or no storm.” “Well you don’t have to. Everything’s okay and both Ellie and George, I think, are in bed. Which is where I’m going to go as soon as I get off the telephone with you.” They talked a few more minutes. Cassandra wasn’t going to, but something made her tell Johnny about meeting Rayner. How strange he’d made her feel. She told him about the lightning strike, though she made it sound as if it’d only been a close call, not a direct hit, and not half as bizarre as it had been. She confided most things to her brother, though

Page 60 she hadn’t said anything about healing his wound or seeing weird things in people’s faces—yet. Johnny knew about the apparition in the cemetery. He thought she could be slightly clairvoyant and that was how he explained her seeing and knowing strange things. Ha, he didn’t know the half of it. “Wow, you’ve had a heck of a night, haven’t you?” Johnny’s voice traveled over the phone line. “Bar fights, runaway aunt, and nearly getting barbecued by a bolt of lightning.” “Yeah, heck of a night.” “Sis, you’re lucky to be alive, is all I can say. And that guy next door, the way you describe him,” he finished, “sounds creepy to me, too. You’re smart to keep him away from you and the folks if you can.” “Creepy is the word all right. I can’t explain why he makes me feel that way, but he does.” “As usual, you’re perceptive. So listen to that inner voice of yours. It won’t lie to you. Avoid the man.” “I’ll try. He seems inordinately interested in me, though. Recently, every time I turn around, there he is.” “He’s stalking you?” “Nah, it’s not that bad. I don’t think.” Maybe she was being paranoid and what she really needed was a good night’s sleep. Yeah, that was it. Lots of sleep should do the trick. “Well, if he keeps bothering you, leave it to me. I’ll punch his lights out for you.” The prospect made her shudder. Not a good idea. She didn’t want Johnny anywhere near that man. It was too dangerous. “No, I can handle it myself. No big deal. Forget about it.” He gave in easily. “If you say so.” Johnny wasn’t real brave. He was no fighter. After their conversation, she sat a moment in the kitchen listening to the storm. Her thoughts touched on the mysterious man who lived next door and then the lightning bolt that should have killed her. And something else. During the lightning strike, she could have sworn there’d

Page 61 been this other man loitering in the shadows beneath the oak tree. She’d seen him. An average man dressed in a shirt, pants, and straggly long hair. She couldn’t see his face, but he’d been looking at her or at Rayner, she couldn’t tell which. His figure had faded in and out like bad reception. But he’d been there watching her, too. Had he been real? She wasn’t sure. What the hell was going on? What was it with all these people watching her? Her shivering wasn’t from the cold. It was warm in the kitchen. Her uncle padded into the room and sat down across from her, his shoulders slumped. So he hadn’t gone to bed. “I fixed the broken window with a piece of cardboard. Ellie’s asleep.” “Is she okay?” “Seems to be. She’s got a couple of scratches and bruises under the dirt. She kept mumbling about our neighbor next door and how he was evil. How there was evil all around us. Closing in. Nonsense like that.” He rubbed his eyes. He fixed himself a cup of coffee, slowly put it to his lips, and released a sigh. “I guess I’m going to have to put bars on the hallway window now, too. I never heard her when she left our room. Ha, and I thought my hearing was the one thing I had that was still good. Lot I know.” “It’s not easy taking care of her, is it?” Cassandra inquired softly, resting her hand over his aged, misshapen one. A working man’s hands. All the years he’d spent building things for other people had crippled them and his body so that now he could barely move without pain. “No, it ain’t. She’s a stubborn, unpredictable child these days. But what can I do? I love her. She’d do the same for me if I was the one sick.” He met Cassandra’s eyes. “It’ll be fine, Cassie. One good thing is that after an episode like tonight, she behaves for days. I have that to look forward to. A small respite.” “So last week wasn’t the first time she’s run off?” “No. She’s done it a couple times.” He wouldn’t look at her.

Page 62 “I always find her, though. So don’t worry about it.” “But I do. You two and Johnny are all I have. I fret about all of you. If she runs away again, Uncle George, please call me if I’m not here. It doesn’t matter when it is. I want to help. Will you phone me?” “I’ll phone you.” Given begrudgingly. “For now we better get to bed. It’s been a night, all around, for both of us, I suppose. Goodnight, Cassie. See you in the morning.” “Goodnight, Uncle George. I’ll stop by early tomorrow to check up on you both.” “Not too early.” He finally grinned. “No, not too early.” He stood up and kissed her on the top of the head like he used to do when she’d been a kid, then he shuffled into the hallway. The kitchen clock showed it was after three a.m. Cassandra retired to her rooms upstairs and slept. Her dreams were full of bar fights and men in black who sent lightning bolts down to try to kill her; men hiding behind trees and ugly monsters hiding behind human faces. She was forever running from these shadows that she knew meant her deadly harm. The feelings of fear and hopelessness were intense and paralyzing. The lightning can’t hurt you because God protects you, a voice spoke in her dream. Nothing can hurt you if you have faith. Cassandra, prepare for what is to come, for it comes soon. In the morning, her mind was fuzzy. She couldn’t recall the nightmare precisely…there was a burning city in it, she thought…and hideous creatures with huge wings—of all things—flying up high in the sky…or not. There’d been these ugly things in the woods. Man-like, but so vicious, they couldn’t have been human. Then the images simply fled from her head as they always did. She couldn’t recall much of the dreams at all. She only recalled that they’d been disturbing. The nightmares were another reason she feared there was

Page 63 something wrong with her head. Only crazy people dreamed, thought and saw what she’d been dreaming, thinking, and seeing. Right? Only crazy people. And of course, she didn’t want to think about that, either. If there were two nutty women on Uncle George’s hands… he’d freak for sure.

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Chapter Six Rayner Rayner brooded: The lightning had hit her. He’d seen it. But the electricity had been deflected as if the woman had some sort of protection around her. No matter what she’d said, it had happened. And in his long centuries, Rayner had never witnessed anything like it…or anything that had astounded him more. Except for that wispy being that had emanated from a dead woman’s carcass. Both incidents meant something. But what? Who was this Cassandra Graystone? He couldn’t control her with his mind as he could other humans. She wouldn’t obey him. He’d tried and nothing. She’d looked at him as if hadn’t willed anything of her—and as if she knew he’d tried and failed. Perplexing. After Rayner left the Graystones’ house, he’d prowled the streets of the city. The storm and the lateness of the hour had emptied them. He didn’t care if the raindrops soaked his garments and his skin. He wasn’t afraid of the thunder and lightning. All it could do was reduce him to ashes and what difference did it make? He wouldn’t feel it. His hunger was all he could feel. He’d nearly fed on that sick old woman in the bushes everyone had been looking for. But he didn’t. The old woman meant something to Cassandra and he hadn’t killed her. Instead, he’d returned her to her husband. Alive. He’d never done anything like that before. He hadn’t killed the old one because of the sneaking

Page 65 suspicion Cassandra might have known if he had. And that wasn’t acceptable. He needed time to discover more about her and the easiest way to do that was to get close to her. If he killed someone she loved he’d never get near her. There were other humans to feed on. A car pulled up to the curb across the street in front of a motel and a man got out. Rayner walked up to him through the rain. “Get back in the car,” he ordered. The man did as he was told. The woman in the front seat scooted over so Rayner could sit next to them. Rayner made them drive across the bridge into the woods on the other side of the river, where he let his true demon self out and drank their blood until they were both dry hulks. Much later, he dug up the soft, wet ground with his clawed hands and buried the corpses. So deep no other humans would find them. The two had been newlyweds traveling through town. They’d been young and full of dreams. The man had graduated from college in the east and, with his bride, was on his way to Seattle where he’d been offered a job as a manager in a design firm. The woman wanted to teach the young humans. She, too, had had a job waiting for her. They’d found a perfect house. Spent too much money on it. The woman had plans to put in a garden. Tomatoes. Corn. Peas. Plant red roses up a white trellis in the front yard. He’d read all that and more from their minds and had felt nothing at ending all of it. They’d been horrified when they’d seen his demon face; horrified as he’d murdered them. He’d broken their necks quickly, to be done with it, and he’d taken their blood. Rayner had no guilt when he killed. They were food and he’d been hungry. So why were their faces already haunting him? No translucent pasty things escaped from their corpses when they died. Or at least he didn’t see them. He kept vigil over the remnants for a long time in the lightless woods, the

Page 66 raindrops tapping the summer leaves above him. But nothing rose out of their bodies. Wispy or otherwise. They were just bags of flesh and bones like thousands he’d seen before. Perhaps he’d imagined that wispy thing last week…and souls didn’t really exist. Like angels, who were supposed to be his archenemies, or so he’d always been told. Other demons spoke of them. Some said they’d known another demon who’d known another demon who might have seen one. Myths. Angels with their ivory skin and graceful beautiful wings that could wrap around and hide them from human and demon eyes; with their weapons of gleaming silver and their immense powers. Ha, angels were supposed to exist, but, like unicorns, he’d never seen any in all his time on earth. Not a one. And, these days, he wanted to come across an angel because he was older, stronger and oh so ready for the final fight. Were the old legends even true? There’d been times he’d sadistically exterminated more humans than necessary, hoping a white winged one would swoop in to protect them or take revenge. They never did. And the greatest lie was the humans’ God. There was no God. Mortals believed in Him only because it made them feel better. More special. Stupid humans. Just like there was no supreme demon called Satan who would someday lead his kind in the final war against God, angels, and humans. Ha! No souls. No angels. No God or Satan. All were madeup nonsense to keep the troops in line. There was no supreme plan. The world had no true purpose. Humans and demons existed for no other reason than they just did. Different species. He and his brethren fed on blood, as humans fed on the meat of dead animals—merely to survive. So why was he considered evil for killing while humans butchered and ate animal flesh all the time and weren’t considered evil for it? Good question, but he knew the answer. Because mortals

Page 67 believed they owned the planet and were the chosen of their nonexistent God. Because they had souls. Poppycock. Or so he’d always believed…until his doubts returned. Because he’d seen something come out of that body last week—as he’d seen Cassandra struck by lightning—so, therefore, if wonders and human souls did exist…what else existed that he didn’t believe in? Oh, all of it was making his head hurt again. Driving the car back into the city, to further cover his crime, he left it near the motel and transported back to Mrs. Tyler’s house, but was too restless to stay there. Venturing out into the rainy night again, he found himself below Cassandra’s window. Come to me, he willed her. And waited. She didn’t. He didn’t fool himself. She didn’t hear him. He couldn’t command her. Levitating up, he peered into her window. On her bed at the far end of the room, covered only by a sheet, she was sleeping; tossing and turning. What was she dreaming about? He probed her dreams, but was blocked from entering them. That had never happened before, either. Was he losing his powers? The very thought unnerved him. If his powers dwindled, which they weren’t supposed to do, he’d be fodder for the young ones. Dead meat. Very bad. He could sneak in and whisk her to Mrs. Tyler’s. Keep her there. The widow Tyler, so easily deceived, would be no problem. Once he had Cassandra, he could study her. Dig out her secrets. He could make her tell him the truth. Whatever that was. Ah, he didn’t want to harm or kill her. She was an enigma and he was curious. If she were a demon, she would be a force to reckon with. The rain was light and the wind, along with the lightning and thunder, had died down as the night had progressed. It was almost morning and the storm had worn itself out.

Page 68 He moved closer to open the window. It was locked, but a tug tore it free. Inside, the air conditioning helped hide the noise. That’s when a gust of wind rammed into him and blew him away from the house. Fighting it did no good. The wind ferociously tossed him every which way as if it’d been annoyed with him; as if he’d been a twig—then deposited him in the mud miles away. Just like that. He sat up, blinking and disoriented. The wind had come out of nowhere. It was as if it had targeted him. Gotten rid of him. Had Cassandra called it to take care of him or had something else? Was someone or something very powerful protecting her…from the lightning…from him…from harm? Mystified, he beat the sun’s rays to his room. Not that he would have been in any danger if he’d been caught in the sunlight. It couldn’t hurt him, but sometimes it was too bright. Sometimes it let his disguise slip. That was reason enough to avoid it. After he’d cleaned up, Rayner lay on his bed and sulked. How was he going to capture Cassandra if he couldn’t get to her? Mulling that over, he assumed he’d find a way. He’d bumped into her on the street. He’d been able to stand beside her in her uncle’s kitchen. So, perhaps, it was only when she was threatened that the defenses kicked in. Something was guarding her; he didn’t know what, but there had to be a way to get past it. He slept until the sun set. The rain stopped, but the air was thick with homeless fog and static electricity. There was no moon, no stars, and only a vast expanse of cloudy inky sky. Once awake, he found himself re-creating the early times of his existence before he’d walked among the humans. He vaguely remembered moving through a shadowy land of spitting and moaning creatures as they gnawed and ripped

Page 69 at the flesh of the other inhabitants. There were cities in ruins and buildings of blackness full of screams. It was freezing and then it was so hot his skin caught fire. The rain never ceased. Sometimes oil or acid fell from the skies and burned holes in his skin. He wandered, ran, or hid. Nothing made any sense, but he was there for what felt like an eternity. He’d always believed the dark city was something he’d invented in the deep recesses of his mind during his early existence, but it’d been a long time since he’d thought about it. Until now. In that shadowy place, there was this beast, swathed in a thick mist, which the others were terrified of. And this entity spoke to him; offered him power and riches if he’d swear alliance to it forever. It commanded him: Go out into the world of man. Torment, butcher, and destroy them. Take no prisoners. Show no mercy. Until I call you back to me. The beast was sometimes as tall as a building or as tiny as a firefly, but when it spoke, its voice permeated Rayner’s whole being. Drink this, the beast in the mist bid him. And Rayner had obeyed. Captivated, he’d sworn his allegiance. He’d drunk the cup filled with briny liquid as bitter as sludge. After all, the city and the beast were only in his imagination. The long years and centuries had slid by and he’d slowly become something else; had nearly forgotten that dark city and the creature he’d sworn fealty to. But now, unheard of for a demon, he’d begun to dream… of the dark city and the beast in the mist again and all the old memories came flooding back. Indeed, that very morning, Rayner remembered something he’d all but forgotten. It’d been endless centuries before, when he’d been new, and the beast in the mist had whispered to him: Someday payment will be asked of you, but not now. Some day. Payment will be asked of you.

Page 70 For endless centuries, the world had changed around him, but Rayner, feeling nothing but the blood hunger and hatred for humans, never did. Until now. Somehow he was changing, too. He’d begun to have this fanatical certainty that there was someone or something out there that knew why he was there and knew what was coming. Someone or something with answers. He just had to find them. He’d become a nomadic loner, wary of humans and his own kind. Always running and hiding. Meeting Cassandra had unleashed so many inappropriate feelings and made him acutely aware of his isolation…his utter loneliness. He even questioned the fragility he’d once associated with human beings—which was heresy—and couldn’t figure out why she brought out those feelings in him. Unless she was the one he’d been searching so long for? The one who might have the answers? The one who would change everything for him. He had to speak to her. Alone. When full darkness came, he followed, but kept his distance. A few nights a week she went somewhere and tonight he’d discover where. He’d find out what she did there and if anyone met her. And he’d find some way to get to her.

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Chapter Seven Cassandra and Sarah The ringing telephone woke Cassandra. What has Ellie done now, she thought. But it wasn’t her uncle calling about her aunt. It was her friend Sarah Hirsh. “Good morning, Cassie. I heard about the bar fight last night at the Red Carpet. You and Johnny okay?” “Sure. We’re fine. We ducked out before the roof fell in. How did you hear about it?” “It was on the TV news this morning. They had pictures and everything. They made it sound like you’d had a war in there. How bad was it?” “Well, I haven’t seen the damage in the daylight, but as we were running out last night, the place looked pretty smashed up. Johnny and I are going in today to see how bad it is and offer our help to Morey for salvage duty.” Cassandra glanced over at the clock on her nightstand. It’d stopped sometime in the night and was blinking twelve o’clock. The storm must have shut off the electricity for a while, but it was back on again. “What time is it, anyway?” “It’s after ten.” “Good thing you called. I might have slept half the day and I should have gotten up before this. Thanks.” Cassandra muffled her yawn. “You’re welcome. You still sound tired to me, Cassie.” “I am. On top of everything, after that brawl at the Red Carpet, I had to go chasing after Ellie last night in the storm with Uncle George.” “Ah, she broke out again, huh?”

Page 72 “Oh, so you know about her prison breaks, huh?” “Your uncle’s mentioned them to me.” “Yeah, he’s at his wit’s end. Anyway, she escaped through the hallway window. But we found her, with help from a neighbor, and she’s fine. Safe in their apartment as we speak, I hope. She really led us on a wild chase last night. Scared the heck out of us.” “Your poor uncle. Poor Ellie, too.” Sarah knew about Ellie’s Alzheimer’s. She was more than familiar with the disease. “I remember Grandma Chloe’s manic escapades, mood swings, and neighborhood wanderings all too well. As I’m sure you do. Remember, she drove us all bonkers? Most of the time she was oblivious to the turmoil she was causing.” “Oh, I remember. Didn’t she live to a hundred or something?” “Yep,” Sarah said, “outliving all her caretakers. That’s the way it usually goes, the family has it harder than the patient. At the end, Grandma was out of it, but we still had to deal.” “Great. We have so much to look forward to then.” Cassandra moaned. “Ellie was a mess last night, let me tell you. She’s getting more and more agitated, her behavior more erratic. I don’t know what we’re going to do if she gets much worse. One of these days she’s going to take off and we’re not going to find her.” “It happens. One time, Grandma Chloe was missing for days. We had to call the police. Search parties and everything. When we finally found her, she was seeing walking buildings and was half-starved. After that, we had to put her in that convalescent home. My mother said it was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. I was pretty young, but I remember most of it.” Cassandra sat up in bed, the telephone cradled in one hand at her ear. She didn’t want to hear anymore about Sarah’s grandmother who’d ended up dying from Alzheimer’s in a state nursing home. It was too depressing. “So, you only called to see if I was still alive?” Her tone was as amiable as

Page 73 she could make it that early in the morning. It was no longer raining, but the clouds crowded close to the earth and by the way the trees were swaying, it was still windy. The sun was hiding. “That and—” Cassandra waited. “What?” She’d caught the uncertainty in her friend’s usually sunny voice. Sarah couldn’t hide anything from her, never could. They’d been friends since grade school. Sarah was the only other person, besides Johnny, George, and Ellie, who’d known Cassandra’s family when they’d all been alive—and was still friends with her. Sarah’s father had been a chiropractor. Her family had been rich. Snooty. Once. Sarah’s parents had accepted Cassandra because she’d made straight A’s and had musical talent. The Hirshs thought she’d be a good influence on their bohemian daughter. It hadn’t worked. Sarah had grown up to be a gypsy card and palm reader. And Cassandra saw dead people before they died. Not the most normal of women. Sarah’s parents were gone now, too. Her father died young from lung cancer and her mother soon after from pneumonia. Sarah had no siblings. But the past was a strong bond between the two women and they were closer because of the losses. They’d adopted each other as sisters. “I did a tarot spread on you last night,” Sarah said, “and, girl, it wasn’t good.” Oh, my, here she goes again. Sarah had seen big trouble coming for Cassandra for months and she never missed a chance to remind her it was coming. “My friend Sarah, the oracle, at it again, hey? I asked you to please stop reading my cards. I don’t believe in them. Or tea leaves or palms. Or crystal balls. Might as well take those daily newspaper horoscopes seriously.” A chuckle slipped out. It wasn’t that she thought Sarah was foolish for believing what she believed, but something inevitably showed up in Cassandra’s reading to upset her. Then it slopped over to upset Cassandra.

Page 74 Since the fire, Cassandra had been Sarah’s favorite subject. According to Sarah, something about the alignment of the stars Cassandra had been born under gave her life a massive dose of tragedy and destiny. A destiny so big Sarah was constantly trying to uncover what it was. What was supposed to happen next. It consumed and intrigued her. Please protect me from card-dealing gypsies, Cassandra mused, and Chinese cookie fortunes. Cassandra never got mad at Sarah because her friend only wanted to protect her. A shame Sarah hadn’t read the cards before the fire, but she’d been ten years old and had just begun playing with the Ouija board. The tarot cards hadn’t come into the picture for another six years. “Now, Cassie, don’t make fun of me. You know I take the cards seriously.” Too seriously, Cassandra thought, but didn’t say it. Sarah’s feelings were easily hurt. She really believed in the stars, cards, omens, and magic. Cassandra only believed in God. Aunt Ellie, being a godly woman, hated the tarot and the Ouija. Be careful, Sarah, she used to say. Those cards are a door for all manner of evil or demons to sneak through into this world. Sometimes with the way the readings went, Cassandra wondered if there wasn’t some truth to that. Cassandra pacified her friend. “So, what did the cards show this time?” She took the phone and crawled out of bed. It was cool in the room. She turned down the air conditioner and went into the bathroom. “You got a heap of trouble coming right at you, girlfriend. A heap.” “Well, last night was no picnic. Maybe that’s the trouble you saw?” “No, I don’t think so. The cards say life and death. A huge struggle between good and evil with you and those you love caught smack dab in the middle.” “A little general, isn’t it?” “Not to me.”

Page 75 “Oh, Sarah. Why do you want to worry me so?” “I’m trying to warn you, not worry you.” Sarah cautioned Cassandra all the time about one thing or another she saw in the cards so it was natural to brush it aside. Though, this time, she sounded more grave than usual. “I mean, I have a creepy feeling about this one, Cassie, it’s huge. Your cards have been hinting at and building towards it for years.” Cassandra sighed into the phone. “I need to get something to eat and get going, Sarah. Can we discuss this later? Like tomorrow?” “I don’t think it can wait. Anyway, I’m already here. Look out your front window. In the driveway.” Cassandra left the bathroom. Went to the window. There was Sarah in the driveway sitting in her old green Cavalier. She was grinning innocently through the front windshield, a white paper bag in one hand and her cell phone in the other. The paper bag waved at Cassandra. Sarah knew how to get to her. “What’s in the bag?” “Something you really like. Hardee’s sausage and egg biscuits. The perfect breakfast. All you have to do is make the coffee.” She had her. “Okay, come on up. But I can’t lollygag and gossip too long. I got places to be and things to do.” She didn’t actually mean it. She was happy to see her friend and the biscuits. Unlocking the door, Cassandra went to grab her robe. When she walked into the kitchen to make coffee, Sarah was already there, putting the food on a plate, getting out the cups and saucers. Cassandra towered over the shorter, more petite woman. They were an odd pair. One pale with flowing ash blonde hair, vivid green eyes, and the other with skin the color of light milk chocolate, bright henna hair, and soft brown eyes. Sarah was half African-American, on her mother’s side. “You know, you sure are a pest,” Cassandra told Sarah

Page 76 as she snatched a biscuit and ate it while making the coffee. “Java will be done here real quick.” “Good. I need an enormous cup.” The table ready, Sarah plunked down into a chair, pushing her frizzy hair back from her freckled face. Cassandra thought her friend was pretty, but Sarah didn’t think she was. Her golden hoop earrings glinted in the dim light. Her frilly peasant blouse was cherry red, her slacks a wild print. It wasn’t long before she had the tarot cards out on the table. Her plump fingers and hands, bejeweled with antique rings and talismanic bracelets, hovered over the fanciful pictures. “Cut these,” she insisted politely. “With your touch on them, I’m going to do a real reading. Double check. Maybe I was wrong.” “We can only hope.” Cassandra frowned at her friend, but gave in. Sarah was a bulldog when she got something in her head. But beneath her irritation, Cassandra was grateful for Sarah that morning. Her friend helped keep her mind off those other things bothering her. Her aunt and uncle were sympathetic people, but lately had had problems of their own, and Johnny was a good brother, but he was a guy and tended to slough off things Cassandra took more seriously. But Sarah was there whenever she needed her, a friend who would listen and advise on all matters small and large. One of those people who gave far more than she took. And they were rare. There weren’t enough of those in the world. “Tell me in more detail about what went down last night,” Sarah requested, as she dealt and spread the flamboyantly painted cards, her velvet amber eyes moving between what was laid out on the table before her and her friend’s face. Cassandra quickly summarized what she wanted her friend to know for now. The bar fight. Ellie’s flight. By the time she’d finished, Sarah was ready to tell her what she saw in the reading.

Page 77 “These specific cards show grievous events. Look here,” she tapped a card, “it’s the death card. This second one predicts great change. This one dangerous upheaval. Whatever is coming is truly bad. I’ve never seen such an awful combination of cards in one reading. I mean it. I’d say almost…apocalyptic.” “Please.” “Listen, Cassandra, I have to tell you, I’m getting really scared. I’ve seen other signs and not just to do with you, but with the world. I’ve had dreams.” Cassandra didn’t want to be hearing that the world was on the brink of Armageddon first thing after waking up. She gave Sarah a lot of leeway with all the mystic mumbo jumbo, but this was too much. Apocalyptic. Really. She had more practical matters to worry about, such as what she and Johnny were going to do for money if the Red Carpet didn’t reopen. Or who was going to take Ellie to her next doctor visit tomorrow afternoon. She and Johnny usually took turns, but now that Johnny’s car wasn’t working it looked as if she would have to do it. Again. As well as pick up Uncle George’s prescriptions or was it Ellie’s pills this time? “So?” Cassandra tried not to grin nervously over what Sarah was telling her, but was having a hard time. Now Sarah was dreaming, having visions as well? “What have you been dreaming of?” “Don’t laugh at me, Cassie. But I’ve been dreaming of… demons.” “Demons?” Now Cassandra’s smile froze on her lips. Something deep inside her was in a cold sweat. She’d been having dreams, too, besides seeing things, but hadn’t wanted to admit they meant something, even to herself. She ate another bite then poured a cup of coffee for both of them. “Demons with beady glowing eyes, scales, long pointed tails, and sharp fangs; ugly spawns-of-Satan type demons? The kind in horror flicks?” “Yes.” Sarah’s head was down again, her concentration on

Page 78 the cards. She hadn’t eaten one biscuit and abruptly gulped down her coffee as if she were dying of thirst. Sarah believed coffee solved everything. If one were tired, drink coffee. If one were down, drink coffee. If one were frightened out of one’s wits, drink coffee. It worked for her. “Well, I assume they’re demons. They’re these ugly deformed creatures surrounded in such malevolence it makes my skin crawl.” Her tiny nose wrinkled. “They stink, too. Like dead flesh.” Uh, oh. “And what exactly,” Cassandra asked, “are these demons doing in your dreams?” Sarah met her gaze. “They’re attacking us. Attacking humans. There’s a whole army of them endlessly pouring up from what I assume is hell. All kinds. Small, large; some with lizard-like blood-colored skin and some as black as pitch. It’s the end of the world, as we know it.” “Ha! You watched too much Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I’d say, girl. You sure do have an imagination. You ought to be writing horror novels. You’d do good at it.” “You don’t take this seriously, do you?” “Oh, Sarah, how can I? They’re just dreams. You’ve always had kooky dreams, in full color, showing really bizarre stuff. If I took all your dreams seriously I’d be in a cuckoo house somewhere.” It was true, as most artistic people; Sarah had always had a very brilliant imagination. “These are different, Cassie. I can’t explain it, but they’re so real and along with these readings of yours point to…you. I don’t know exactly what connection there is yet, but I’ll bet there is one. Or will be one.” Cassandra had a fleeting image of translucent apparitions in graveyards. Melting human faces. No. Think about something else. There is no connection. “Am I in the dreams?” Sarah hesitated, and nodded her head. “Lately, you have been.” A sigh. Cassandra waited to hear what she’d been doing in them,

Page 79 but Sarah didn’t elaborate. Instead, there was an odd look on her friend’s face as her eyes left the last card she’d turned over and came to rest on Cassandra. “What was I doing in them, Sarah?” “Don’t laugh and don’t freak out.” “Sarah!” “You were fighting them, that’s what you were doing.” “I was fighting demons?” “Yeah, with guns and swords. I think it was a premonition.” “Was Johnny with me?” Cassandra didn’t know why she asked that, but she did. “You know, come to think about it, he was.” “He fighting demons, too?” A faint smirk claimed her mouth. “He was.” “Fat chance. You know Johnny’s afraid of anything that has teeth or anything with sharp edges. For crying out loud,” she sputtered, “you’re watching too much TV. Can we talk about something else?” “We can if you promise to think about what I’ve said and to be extra careful in the near future.” Cassandra cocked her head. “I’m always careful. If I see a demon—with or without a tail and fangs—I’ll be sure to stomp on it. Then I’ll call you and tell you all about it.” Sarah flashed her a sharp look. “Okay, okay. I’ll be careful,” Cassandra promised. “Just don’t speak of any of this to Uncle George or Aunt Ellie, especially Aunt Ellie. In her frame of mind these days, as religious as she is, heaven knows how she’d react. She’d most likely grab a weapon and want to fight for the Lord and then she’d promptly forget what the weapon was for and shoot her own foot. And my uncle thinks it’s the end times anyway. All it would do is spook the bejesus out of them both.” “I won’t say anything to them. I know better. Your uncle has enough to drive him crazy and your aunt, too. But you must agree to let me do another reading on you in a few days.

Page 80 I need to keep an eye on this.” “Blackmail, huh?” “If I have to. I’m worried about you, that’s all.” “I know.” Cassandra patted her friend’s shoulder. “Okay, if you must, come over anytime. Read my fortune a hundred times if it makes you feel better. I’ll even roll my naked body all over the deck if it’ll help. Now, here, have a biscuit and put those stupid cards away.” “They’re not stupid,” Sarah groused, but slid the cards into their box and put it in her purse. “By the way, aside from Ellie’s breakouts, how are your aunt and uncle doing these days?” “About the same. He’s old and tired and his blood pressure is up. But, you know Uncle George, he’s hanging in there. Ellie’s a handful, but my uncle loves her and takes good care of her no matter how peculiar her behavior. He’s so patient with her. Last night, he didn’t mind going out in the storm, getting soaked, as long as we found her.” Knowing better, Cassandra didn’t mention the strange man next door. In Sarah’s frame of mind she might think Rayner was one of those demons from her nightmares or something. Skulking around. Watching her for heaven knows what reasons. The two friends were silent as they drank their coffee. “And how’s Johnny?” There was a spark in Sarah’s eyes that Cassandra caught before her friend looked down, pretending to be busy eating. Sarah had been sweet on Johnny when they were kids, but over the years she’d come to think of him more as a brother. Cassandra knew Sarah would do anything for Johnny if he asked. “Oh, Johnny’s Johnny, you know. His car’s broken down again.” Cassandra rolled her eyes. “He’s fixing it himself. With some help from a friend. “Oh, and you’ll be glad to know, he’s writing more songs. The dry spell’s over.” Cassandra almost added that she’d thought he’d gotten hurt in the bar fight the night before and

Page 81 the wound had inexplicably healed, but at the last moment kept it to herself. Sarah would only see it as another omen that he was in danger, too. And Sarah was obsessing enough. “He got a steady girlfriend yet?” “Well, kinda. There’s this girl that keeps pestering him at the club. She’s cute, but, as usual, too young. I think he’s going out with her, though he won’t own up to it. Her name’s Zoe, and she’s into the Goth look, you know? Dresses in black leather with globs of eyeliner, make-up, has piercings in her eyebrows, nose and tongue. She’s a real trip. Johnny’s smitten. This week, anyway. You know how fickle he is when it comes to the girls.” Sarah’s expression was unreadable. “Goth, huh? That’s so yesterday. Some of those Goth followers believe in vampirism and the occult. That’s not good. You can’t trust ’em. He should stay away from her and her friends, especially in light of what the cards are revealing.” “Are you serious?” “I’m not fooling. Tell him to be careful. Stay among crowds of people if he’s with her and positively don’t go to any of those rave parties.” “Okay. I’ll give him the message. Goth girls are bad. Rave parties are a no-no. Stay away. Not that he’ll listen.” Enough about Johnny’s dating habits. “And how are you doing these days?” Cassandra went on to a new subject. “Still seeing what’s his name?” “Walter?” “Yeah, him.” Walter was a professional mime and clown who worked a carnival circuit across the Midwest. People made good-humored jokes when Sarah spoke of him, but according to her, he was sensitive, talented, and good at his job; which he’d trained for most of his life. There was nothing funny about that. His father and grandfather before him had been circus clowns, while his mother had been part of a high-wire act. Walter sounded like a nonconformist, but Sarah maintained he was a generous, though private and

Page 82 religious, person. Dependable. When he said he was going to do something, he did it. Sarah had been seeing him for months, but because of his traveling and a couple gigs Cassandra and Johnny had had out of the city, Cassandra hadn’t actually met him yet. Often, Sarah went out of town to be with him. “I guess so. He must be trying to save on his phone bills or something, though. He hasn’t called in a few days, but the carnival moves around so much it keeps him busy. Last I heard they were up by the Canadian border visiting a bunch of towns you can hardly find on a map. Walter says that the remote villages appreciate them more than larger towns. I’ll be glad when the summer is over and they take their winter break. I miss him, miss being with and talking to him.” “Is he staying with you this winter?” Cassandra enjoyed visiting with her friend, but it was getting late. She was in a hurry to get to the Red Carpet and see if it was standing; see if she and Johnny still had a job. And she had to check on her aunt and uncle before she left. “As far as I know. If something else doesn’t get in the way. I don’t want to scare you, but who knows where any of us will be or what we’ll be doing by winter if the cards speak the truth.” “On that cheery note, gypsy girl, I’m gonna shove you and the rest of your sausage biscuits out the door so I can do what I need to do. Why did you bring so much food? I thought we were on diets.” “Not today. We’ll start tomorrow.” She was always saying that. “I brought extra biscuits so you could doggie bag the leftovers to your aunt and uncle, knowing they love them, too. Since they don’t get out much to buy goodies for themselves these days.” “That was sweet of you, Sarah. They’ll be tickled you thought of them.” Cassandra closed the bag and left it on the table. “I was going to stop by to see them anyway before I went to the club.”

Page 83 “Well, say hi for me. Tell your uncle next time I’ll come by and visit, but I have to rush off myself. There’s a psychic fair at the Civic Center. Nancy Gordon and I rented a booth for the next two afternoons. You remember her? My stately friend who works downtown for the electric company, loves peanuts, and reads tea leaves? We split the costs and I need to get there.” They said good-bye. Through the kitchen window, Cassandra watched Sarah’s car drive off. She telephoned Johnny to make sure he was up, and took a quick shower, dressed, and knocked on her uncle’s door. When there wasn’t an answer, she used her key and let herself in. Everything looked normal, but no one was up yet. The coffee hadn’t been made. Her uncle was probably sleeping in late after the chaotic night he’d had. Let him sleep. He needs it. She left the bag on the table with a note saying where she’d be and that she’d be back later if she could. Johnny wasn’t ready by the time she arrived, but she hurried him along and by twelve they were walking into Morey’s club. “Yikes, it looks worse in the light of day than it did last night,” Johnny muttered as they worked their way through the rubble. “Whoa, someone smashed all the booze and gouged Morey’s new bar top. Why would anyone want to do that?” He shook his head. Their boss was sitting at one of the tables that had been left in one piece, his head in his hands, complaining under his breath. “So, is the patient terminal?” Cassandra queried as they stood next to him and assessed the damage. Morey lifted his head. “No. I’ve seen worse. And no one was hurt too badly. One man’s in the hospital with a broken arm and a woman got her ribs kicked in. Other than that, there were mainly bumps, scratches, and bruised feelings. But my bar’s a mess. Maggie and I have been cleaning up, but

Page 84 we’re going to need help if we’re to get the place ready for business by Thursday.” Weekends were Morey’s busiest times and, financially speaking, they began on Thursdays. She sat down across from him. Johnny wandered away to reclaim their equipment and guitar cases that’d been tossed into a corner. “All our stuff’s still here,” Johnny affirmed loudly from across the room. Thank goodness. Cassandra turned back to Morey. “So, you’re not going to close?” She didn’t try to hide the relief in her voice. “Lordy no, can’t afford to close, though I did seriously consider it last night after the fracas. But now in the light of day things are clearer. You know, I’m not a quitter. And it’s not as bad as it looks. Insurance will take care of most of it. So I think we can reopen in a few days. Just going to take some work and elbow grease. A little carpentry.” “Well, that’s why Johnny and I are here. We can help with the clean up and we’re handy with a hammer and nails. Affordable, too. We work cheap for friends.” “What are your qualifications?” “We both helped Uncle George renovate the house. We do all our own repairs, including plumping and electrical. Uncle George was a carpenter for a living. Home improvements. Room additions. Retired now. But he taught us everything he knows.” “Then you’re hired. Can you start…now?” Morey, an average-looking man of fifty, with a sharp face, thinning brown hair, and warm brown eyes, smiled. A college graduate who’d burned out as a history teacher, he’d taken over the club when he’d inherited it from his father three years before. He was learning what it took to run it smoothly and was turning out to be an astute businessman as well as a fair one. Cassandra really liked him. He was a good man. “We’re here, aren’t we? We’re dressed to start clearing out and cleaning up.” “Excellent. Insurance guy’s already dropped by. Prompt

Page 85 son-of-a-gun. He took a ton of photos, filled out the forms, so you can start work whenever you want. None of this work cheap for friends stuff, either…I’ll pay you both a fair wage. Whatever you think is the going rate. Write up a bid. Buy whatever materials, hire extra help if you need to. “Well kid, how long do you think it’ll take to get this place in shape again?” “We got a lot of work to do, and yes, we’ll start now. Hopefully we’ll get it presentable by Thursday. Because you know, the show must go on.” Cassandra came to her feet and motioned to Johnny to come over. “Time to work, Brother. Clean up first.” “I’m ready.” He had a broom in one hand and a trash bag in the other. At the end of the day, Cassandra offered to make supper for her brother at her place. He checked his wristwatch. “Thanks, but not tonight, Sis. Rickie will be over at seven to work on my car. He’s trading me the used parts for beer and guitar lessons.” Rickie was a friend of Johnny’s who worked at a neighborhood mechanic’s shop. A convenient friend since Johnny could barely change a car tire and always needed car repairs and Rickie wanted to play guitar. An association made in financial heaven. Johnny was teaching him to play and Rickie helped with the car. Though he was tired and dirty, Johnny smiled. They’d gotten the bar cleaned up, made a list of the materials needed for the next morning’s work and had ordered new tables and chairs. Two more of Johnny’s friends were coming in the next day to lend them a few extra hands. Everything was under control. Cassandra kept up with her brother as they went out the door—asking him one last thing about the remodeling— when something made her turn her head and glance back at Maggie. The woman was behind the bar sweeping off the last of the broken glass.

Page 86 She caught Cassandra looking at her. Grinned. “Good night, Sweetie. See you tomorrow.” “Tomorrow.” But Cassandra’s skin flushed as she realized that for Maggie, tomorrow would never come. The woman would be dead. Oh, no, not Maggie. She wasn’t that old. She had children. Cassandra froze in the doorway and stared at the sign on the other woman’s forehead. It was a red smudge, faint and pulsating. Cassandra could warn her, but it wouldn’t do any good. She’d seen two people marked for death in three days. A record. What did it mean? Perhaps Sarah had been right. Bad things were coming. “Forget something?” Maggie’s hands stopped moving. “No. Just daydreaming.” Cassandra hated lying, but there was nothing else to say. “Goodnight, Maggie. You take care now.” She let the door shut softly behind her and pushed out into the evening. It’d begun to rain again. No surprise there. It matched her mood because she felt like crying. Maggie had become more than an acquaintance, a little less than a friend. But knowing the other woman’s fate made Cassandra immensely sad. Because she couldn’t change it and hated it. People died every day, minute, second since the beginning of time. Nothing could stop that. Why did she think she could make a difference? Don’t do this to yourself! In the car, Johnny asked her right off, “I know you, Sis. What’s wrong?” “Maggie’s going to die. I saw it.” “Oh, no.” Her brother hung his head. “She has kids.” “I know.” A tiny voice. The two were silent the rest of the way to Johnny’s apartment. There was nothing else to say. Nothing could save Maggie and they knew it. They were tired from the day and the night before. Maggie’s destiny was too much to face at that moment. “This hasn’t been a good week, Cassie.” Johnny’s voice

Page 87 was gloomy. “No, it hasn’t.” And her brother didn’t know the half of it. After she dropped him off, she drove to Holy Family, a large ivory stone church on Third Street that’d been there since the nineteen thirties. She’d been going to it since she’d been a kid. It’d been her family’s house of worship. The church her mother and father had been married at and the children christened in. The church they’d gone to on Sundays when they’d been a complete happy family. She hadn’t been there in a while and sat quietly in a wooden pew surrounded by incense, the holy statues of the saints and memories of her family. Being there gave her peace of mind. She said prayers for Maggie. Her kids. She lit candles for Aunt Ellie, her dead family. Maybe God didn’t see the candles, didn’t care, but it made her feel better. She longed to feel her family sitting around her again in the pews under the stained glass windows. Sometimes she thought she could almost see them. They were smiling ghosts beside her, whispering and giggling and paging through their hymn books. Singing. Their voices mingling together, off key at times, in her head. Why, she petitioned God, if she were seeing ghosts anyway, couldn’t she see the spirits of her family? Those were ghosts she wouldn’t mind being haunted by. She missed them so much. Instead, at times like now, she exchanged secrets with their memories and updated them on how Johnny and she were getting along; what was happening in their lives. How Ellie and George were faring. She didn’t want them to think she’d forgotten any of them. She never would. She discussed the recent events with each one individually as she’d been doing since the fire. It made her feel closer to them, as if they weren’t really gone. Elizabeth, who’d been the oldest at seventeen, with her chestnut curls and uppity manners, the beauty of the family, had wanted to be a fashion designer when she grew

Page 88 up. Instead, she’d burned in the fire and went to heaven. Cassandra told her about the bar fight. You and Johnny were lucky to have gotten out without a scratch, Elizabeth whispered in Cassandra’s mind. It could have been a lot worse. “I know.” Be careful. I worry about you. Cassandra smiled at the empty air beside her. Ben, at fifteen, had been the dark-headed one most like their kind father. Quiet. He’d had a passion for music similar to Johnny’s and listened to the radio constantly. He’d wanted a new electric guitar or a piano, but Mom and Dad hadn’t had the money. Ben used to say that when he grew up he’d get a job in a traveling band. Be a rock star. He’d buy all the instruments he wanted. Well, he’d had the looks for it. He’d been six-foot-five even at his young age; velvet-eyed and with a smile as sweet as chocolate. With a husky soulful voice, he’d had the charisma and probably would have been singing with her and Johnny—if he’d been alive today. Sometimes when she was performing on stage with Johnny, she almost thought she heard Ben singing there beside them; standing tall with his thoughtful face, dark eyes and shoulder-length hair as black as a raven’s feathers. He’d be grinning, his long slender fingers caressing the frets of a ghost guitar and his mellow voice blending in sweetly with theirs. “I’ve been seeing weird things, Ben. They frighten me.” Don’t be afraid, Cassie. They wouldn’t hurt you. I’m watching out for you. I’ll protect you. “Thanks, Ben.” She could take care of herself, but wouldn’t hurt Ben’s feelings for anything. Let him think it made her feel more secure to have him watching over her. “I’m getting a new mike next week, I think. Johnny’s written some really pretty ballads and I don’t want the old one squealing like a pig all the way through them.” Ben sat there listening, nodding his ghost head. Yeah, I

Page 89 heard you two the other night…you’re getting so good. I’m proud of you both. Miss you. Wish I could be there with you. Johnny could teach me some of his new songs. They sure are something. Erin had been the tomboy of the family with her shiny caramel-colored hair in flowing waves, her intuitive way with people. She’d been eager to please and she’d been ambitious. She’d hated being broke, so she’d take their mother’s homebaked cookies and sell them door-to-door for cash. She could sell anything to anyone and most likely would have made a great businesswoman one day, running her own company. She loved kids and wanted to have a lot of them someday. Loved the Beatles. She’d played all their albums on an old boom box Dad had found in a thrift store until the cassettes had worn out. She would have appreciated Johnny’s songs. “Johnny got hurt, but somehow his wound miraculously healed itself,” Cassandra divulged to her sister. “It was the strangest thing. What do you think of that?” You did it, Cassie,” Erin said. “You have the healing touch. “Nah, I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t do it. Not me.” Yes, you. Erin was firm. It’s all connected. Everything. You’ll see. Ellen, at eight years old, had been a year younger than Cassandra and a year older than Johnny in the family’s order, and a beautiful girl with moon blonde hair and huge sapphire eyes. She would have been the smart, scholarly one. Cassandra could still see her hunched over a book, her glasses sliding down on her small nose. Ellen, the dreamer, who’d wanted to be a writer someday. She used to scribble verses in a notebook she kept under her pillow. The fire burnt it to ashes. Cassandra didn’t normally burden Ellen with her problems. To her, Ellen was still a little child, would always be too young for grownup problems, so Cassandra entertained her with a story about balloons with faces that floated across the land and found people who looked like them. Cassandra

Page 90 used different funny voices for each individual character and Ellen laughed. Then there was Jason, at six, the youngest, the baby, with his frail undersized body and shy ways. He’d had hair like new wheat and a tiny freckled face that used to smile trustingly at her. When he’d been alive, she’d give him pony rides on her back. He’d giggle and giggle, his infectious delight always making others smile, too. She’d affectionately called him her little elf. He used to keep a fake fuzzy caterpillar he called Herman, with tiny black button eyes, in a matchbox as a pet. Best kind of pet, he’d tell her with a conspiratorial giggle, don’t need no food and never makes a noise. Listens to everything I say. Never tries to run away. Cassandra smiled at him as she described eating sausage biscuits that morning with Sarah and leaving some for George and Ellie. I remember biscuits, the big fluffy ones Mom used to bake us, the child crooned wistfully in her mind. Umm, good. It was nice of Sarah to bring you some. I miss Sarah, too. Jason had adored Sarah. And Sarah, with no brothers or sisters of her own, had been fond of Jason. Probably because Jason, so young, had hung on Sarah like a cocklebur, forever wanting her to play with him whenever she came over. She’d felt like his big sister, too. I love you, Cassie. Say hi to Sarah for me. “I will.” Don’t forget me. “I won’t. Never ever. You’re in my heart and a heart never forgets.” And Jason was gone. Then there’d been her father, James, a salesman who sold other people what they thought they really didn’t need and hated every minute of it. And her mother, Mary, who spent her life cooking and cleaning and loving the children she’d bore. They’d kept her busy. Drove her to distraction with all their needs and wants.

Page 91 She cherished them all anyway. Her parents’ memories were the ones who’d faded the quickest. She didn’t know why. Cassandra had to work to remember how they’d looked or how their voices had sounded. But she remembered well the love they’d given her. Her mother had been a compact woman with reddish hair and the same emerald eyes Cassandra saw reflected in her own mirror each day. Having a nervous temperament, she’d given everything she had for her children and never had energy left for much else. Used to make the best fried chicken and breaded pork chops in town. The best cakes and pies from scratch. There was this thing she used to do with leftover pie dough. Cut it up, sprinkle cinnamon and sugar on it, a little butter, roll them up, and bake them. They’d been so flaky, buttery warm and good. Cassandra could still taste them. Her father. With his ready laughter, smile, and charitable nature, her father had been the heart of the family. He’d never spoken a harsh word or none that Cassandra had ever heard. He’d been one of those people who’d do anything for anyone anytime. If one of them had a problem, their father helped them solve it. He made her feel so special. Once, when she couldn’t find her stuffed dog, Spotty, in the middle of the night, her father had searched for it everywhere until he’d found it. He hadn’t made fun of her for still sleeping with a stuffed animal at her age, while her other brothers and sisters often teased her about it. He’d given her a hug, a kiss, and tucked her back into bed with it. And one night when a huge cicada bug flew into her and Ellen’s room and roosted beneath her bed, her father had captured and disposed of it. It’d scared the heck out of her. She’d thought it’d been an ugly scary creature, but her father had saved her from it. She never forgot the way he’d made her feel protected and treasured. And when he was in the house, it’d been filled with happiness. Nothing could hurt them as long as he was there…or so she’d believed.

Page 92 It hadn’t turned out to be true. The fire had hurt them all. It’d swept through the house late one winter night when the snow had been high and the feral wind freezing outside their windows. The fire had caught them unprepared in their beds. By the time the house had burned to its foundations (so swiftly it counted as only a blink of an eye) they’d all been dead…except for two. And that was a strange thing, too. She’d wondered why Johnny and she, of all of them, had been spared. It was a mystery she’d never found an answer for no matter how hard she’d tried. All she remembered was that something had awakened her before she even knew the house was on fire. She’d listened and heard suspicious sounds below—scratching, grunts, and heavy footsteps—and had gone to see what was making them. Leaving Ellen sleeping in the bed next to hers, leaving her to die alone, she’d made her way down the stairs towards the noises when she saw the flames on the first floor. The rest of what happened that night was hazy, but somehow she’d bumped into Johnny in the lower hallway by the back door. He’d passed out on the floor from the smoke as it’d filled the house frighteningly fast, but somehow she’d stayed conscious long enough to drag him out into the snow then collapsed. The next thing she knew, she was in the hospital being told by her Aunt Ellie that there’d been a terrible fire. She was going to come and live with them. There’d been bandages on her face and legs. Her entire body hurt. She hadn’t found out until days later that only she and Johnny had survived and the others were dead. Then had followed months of denial, anger, and grief; finally acceptance. She and Johnny went to live with their uncle and aunt and were loved. Slowly, most of their wounds, physical and emotional, healed. And time passed. How she missed her deceased family, though her brother

Page 93 and sisters were with her always, invisible, surrounding her with their love, interest, and caring. They encouraged her and kept her from being lonely. Her mother’s knowing smile or her father’s kind words echoed back to her when she needed them the most. Sometimes her family was so real she’d almost forget they were dead, though they were for this life anyway. They’re not gone, Aunt Ellie would remind her and Johnny, but are waiting for you in heaven. In the beginning, that wasn’t something Cassandra wanted to hear. She’d wanted them there with her. Playing monopoly or cards or watching television in that huge old house on a cold winter night. She missed the summer days they’d run in the fields surrounding the house playing hide-and-seek or the hot nights their father would, when they could afford it, pile them in the big Buick and take them to buy ice cream cones in town. She missed the summer picnics they’d had out in the back yard with fried chicken, potato salad, and watermelon. When they’d fill the small plastic pool with cool water and splash around until there was no liquid left in it. Missed the Fourth of Julys when they’d buy fireworks and run through the night yard with rainbow colored sparklers, teasing and taunting each other. Laughing, laughing, laughing. She remembered all of it. Ha, your make-believe meetings, a spiteful voice whispered to her sometimes when she was downhearted, are only what you think they’d say or do. Your family isn’t really there with you, it taunted. They’re dead and long buried. Ashes and bones. Gone. Gone. Gone. Cassandra gazed up at Christ on the cross hanging from the ceiling, with tears in her eyes. There was a sudden sprinkling of dazzling light in the dimness of the chamber around it, so bright Cassandra closed her eyes. When she looked again, the light had dissipated. It must have been a trick of the dying sunlight or a figment of her mind. She was seeing a lot of that lately.

Page 94 Getting up from her kneeling position, she made her way to the front of the church and lit the candles for those who were gone and those left behind. She lit one for Maggie. Prayed. “Good-bye, family,” she murmured as she strolled out. “I’ll be back soon.” She drove home to check on her aunt and uncle. Make sure they were okay. After all, they were all she had now, but Johnny…and Sarah. She had to take good care of them. The dark was full of rain and she didn’t see the figure standing in the shadows as she came up the walk outside her house until he stepped in front of her and spoke.

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Chapter Eight Rayner “How’s your aunt doing today?” Rayner hadn’t meant to scare Cassandra, sidling out to meet her the way he did. But he couldn’t risk her going into the house before he’d talked to her. He’d waited all evening for her to go off to wherever she went most nights, but had seen her coming towards the house, instead of away. He’d moved quickly. The woman was startled to see him. Putting her hands up to her chest in the pale light from the house windows, her expression was fearful. Then she recognized him, all feelings fled her face and what was left was stone. Was she afraid of him and hiding it? He couldn’t tell. What was she thinking? He didn’t know. “She’s doing okay,” she replied flatly, glancing around them, raindrops trickling down her flushed face. “Though I haven’t seen her or my uncle today. I’m in kind of a hurry. Sorry, the rain’s soaking me. Can we visit some other time?” She tried to circle around him, but he stood in her way. Stay! Talk to me. Unflinchingly, refusing to bend to his will, she moved away from him. He let her, knowing better than to physically stop her. He didn’t have to be blown away by another tornado or struck by lightning to recall that lesson. “I was merely concerned as a neighbor…and the one who found her last night,” he not so tactfully reminded, which stopped her in mid-step.

Page 96 She faced him under her uncle’s porch light. “We were grateful for your help. I thanked you last night, didn’t I?” She didn’t say his name. “You did.” “Is there anything else?” He paused and asked slyly, “Where do you go off to some nights, Cassandra? I see you driving away and am curious. Is it to your job?” She moved up the steps and onto the porch. He followed. She was careful to keep space between them. “Well, before yesterday it was,” she answered in a rush. “My brother and I sang weekends at a local bar. Two voices, two guitars. But there was a fight there last night. Today we were cleaning up, but the bar’s still a mess.” She acted as if she was going to say something else, but didn’t. Probably didn’t want him bothering her at her job. She hadn’t mentioned her bother’s name or where they played. Hiding things from him again, offering only enough to not appear rude and no more. “Ah, you’re a musician and have a brother who’s one as well? Oh, my, how interesting. I adore creative people. They’re so independent and free spirited.” “Do you?” She put her hand on the doorknob, her eyes never leaving him. “I’ve known many artists in my travels, actually. And to think I’m living next door to such a lovely gifted woman. I’m impressed, Cassandra. What kind of music do you two play?” Her behavior was impatient, but she responded anyway, good manners overriding her annoyance. “Some cover songs, top forty soft rock stuff, but mostly my brother’s original songs. “You know,” she said, the sound of rain gently falling around her, “any other time I wouldn’t mind standing in the rain, chatting, but I’ve been scrubbing floors and walls all day and, well, last night, with chasing Aunt Ellie across the whole neighborhood. I’m tuckered out.”

Page 97 He caught the sarcasm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble.” The door opened behind them and Cassandra’s uncle was standing there with a spatula in his hand. “Well, looky here, company. I thought I heard talking outside. Come on in both of you, I got hamburgers on the grill. Potato chips and beans on the table. I got more than enough for you two as well.” Cassandra was glaring at Rayner. “Thank you, that’s too kind,” Rayner said what he supposed she wanted him to say. “But I’m not very hungry.” “Nonsense, young men are always hungry.” The old man nodded at him, stood aside, and held the door ajar for them to come in. His eyes were glued to Rayner’s face, but he couldn’t see the demon hidden behind it. Unlike his niece, the old gentleman was pliable, believed what Rayner wanted him to believe, and did about everything he was told. “Truth is,” George voiced as they filed in. “I was feeling kinda lonely. I was hoping for visitors. And here you are.” Saying just what Rayner wanted him to say. Rayner intercepted the irritated squint Cassandra sent her uncle. The old man didn’t notice and gave his niece a hug. “Mr. Rayner, I’ve been meaning to come over anyway to thank you for helping find my Ellie last night, but I haven’t been able to leave her. She’s been in a cranky mood. Real unusual that she’s still agitated. I’ve had to watch her like a hawk. So I’m glad to see you. Thank you.” “As I assured you last night, you’re welcome. But, please, just call me Rayner, everyone else does.” The demon entered the house. He didn’t actually need an invitation. He could go anywhere he wanted anytime. Well, he didn’t like churches or cemeteries much. They gave him bad vibes and made him paranoid. All that holiness and consecrated ground. “How is Ellie?” “As I mentioned, she’s been crabby. On top of it, she’s caught a cold from being out in the wet weather. Right now, she’s getting dressed for supper and will be out soon. Sit on

Page 98 down, Rayner. Make yourself at home.” He did, amused at the continued annoyance on Cassandra’s face. The old man went back to frying the meat, which nearly made Rayner sick. Patties of greasy dead cow flesh. How could humans eat that stuff? Just the smell made him nauseous. The demon listened as the two humans discussed their day. Cassandra was reluctant to talk and only answered what she had to. The three of them spoke of trivial things mostly. Rayner thought it was because he was there. She kept stealing glances at him. What was she trying to see? When the man plopped a burnt slab of animal flesh on a bun and placed it before him, Rayner politely declined, saying he’d already eaten supper and couldn’t devour another thing. The old man took the hamburger for himself. “Can I get you a cup of coffee, then, or something?” The human named George was looking at him. “No, thank you. I’m fine.” Cassandra and her uncle were eating and he was watching Cassandra when the old woman, in a worn bathrobe, sauntered into the kitchen. Her eyes were trancelike. Hair uncombed and fluffy around her face. She kept sniffling and wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Sneezing. Then she saw Rayner. Her reaction fluctuated between confusion and fear, but when he met her eyes, they went blank for a heartbeat and then filled with revulsion. He willed her to accept him, like him, but she showed no signs of either one. “You’re back,” the old woman spat at him. “You shouldn’t be here. Oh, and you know that. So clever. Clever. Or you think you are.” A sarcastic snicker. She plopped down in the chair nearest the window. Her gaze never left Rayner. Her fingers fumbled at the loose threads of her robe, as her attention, when she wasn’t staring at him, focused on something he

Page 99 couldn’t see or hear in a far corner of the room. Rayner kept looking into the corner, but there was nothing there. “Sorry,” the old man murmured at him. “She’s not herself tonight.” “It’s all right. I understand.” Meanwhile, Cassandra continued to glower at him. She didn’t want him in her uncle’s kitchen, didn’t want him near her or the people she loved. Why? He needed to know. “I’m sure our neighbor has things to do and places to go,” Cassandra snapped sharply, looking straight at him. It was more a demand than a suggestion. “On the contrary,” Rayner retorted with a smile, “right now I have no place I’d rather be than here. Sharing the time of day with my friendly neighbors.” Cassandra looked livid, but she didn’t say anything else. “You know,” the old woman stopped fiddling with her robe, “I believe the last soul has been born.” Rayner stared at her, trying not to show his surprise. The old man grinned supportively and patted his wife’s bony hand. Not herself, he mouthed at Rayner. Cassandra’s head shot up. “Aunt Ellie, we don’t want to talk about that now, do we?” She went over and put her arms around her aunt’s shoulders, but she was looking at Rayner. “Of course, we do,” the old lady insisted peevishly. “There isn’t much time now as I see it. If the Well of Souls is empty, then the countdown towards the Rapture has already begun.” Rayner was aware for the first time since he’d met Cassandra’s aunt that she was lucid, as if a veil had been lifted from her mind. Her speech was clear. She was a different woman, temporarily anyway. “What is this Well of Souls you speak of?” Rayner questioned, trying hard to hide his eagerness. The old woman answered, “No religion, huh?” “Not much.” Rayner found he was more interested than he should have been. But anything to do with the human concept of souls and their afterlife, after what he’d seen, intrigued

Page 100 him. “Ha, should have known. You being evil and all.” “Ellie!” The old man gently reproached her. “He’s our guest.” “So you think. I know better. He’s here to spy for the other side. Means us harm if we’re not vigilant. But I’m a good Christian woman. Protected by God and his angels. And the time is short, so I’ll answer his questions.” Ellie narrowed feverish eyes at him. “Because we’re in the end days and God tells us to spread the word to whomever we can, I’m talking to you instead of beating you over the head with an iron pan. There are shades of evil, you know, and some will be brought over to the light. Mayhap you’re one of those.” She was still looking at him. “Most likely not, though.” “Ellie!” The old man chided her again. “The Well of Souls, evil one,” she went ahead anyway, launching into her sermon, “is where all the world’s souls come from and there’re only so many of them. Souls that is. A finite number. When the last one is born into a human child, that’s the signal that the end days are right around the corner. Then the Rapture will come. Then there’ll be seven years of tribulation, hard times as Satan fights for control of the souls left behind, that the rest of humanity will have to suffer and live through. I know the last soul has left the well because… God has told me so in a dream.” “God speaks to you?” Rayner asked. “Uh, huh. He speaks to me in dreams a lot. Time is short.” She sneezed. Her nose was running. Cassandra gave her a tissue. “What is this Rapture?” Rayner was captivated. He’d never cared about religion before, but now he decided it might be worth looking into. “Don’t bother our neighbor with that,” Cassandra said nervously. “I don’t think he’s a believer.” She didn’t want Ellie discussing her faith with him. Strange.

Page 101 But nothing was stopping the old woman. “Rapture is when God will call to heaven all the innocent and faithful, the ones who’ve accepted Jesus Christ as the Son of God and that He died on the cross to redeem them here on earth. Those chosen ones will be taken to heaven. It’ll happen in an instant.” She waved her hand in a sudden upward gesture. “And they won’t have to remain behind and suffer through the seven years of Tribulation.” “Seven years of Tribulation?” He gave a sideways look at Cassandra. Her eyes had lowered, she was motionless, but he could see the tension in her body. She was angry. The old woman groaned. “You are clueless, ain’t ya?” Another snicker. “For seven years those who are left behind will have another chance to gain God’s grace. See the light. If they become believers, they can go to heaven when Christ returns the second time to gather the rest of his flock.” “How does someone become a believer?” Rayner asked, not letting his skepticism show. “As if you really care to know that?” “I do.” “They accept God and his Son in their hearts, pledge themselves to spreading His word, live by those words, and bring others into the fold.” “What happens if they pretend to believe, but really don’t?” “God will know if they’re sincere.” “Hmm, doesn’t sound difficult to me.” “It will be. More than you can conceive.” The old woman’s eyes were zealous, but her voice was steady. “During those years, God will send all sorts of trials for the remainder of humanity. Plagues, destructive weather as no human has ever seen. The skies will be the color of slate and the rivers and oceans will dry up or turn to blood. Demon warriors will fight man. And all will see. It’ll almost be like hell on earth.” “Most she’s said in days. That makes sense anyway,” Cassandra muttered beneath her breath, but Rayner heard it.

Page 102 He had exceptionally keen hearing. The old man was smiling at his wife with pride as he took her hands to comfort her. “Go on,” Rayner urged. “Please? Tell me more.” “You really want me to?” “Yes!” “Okay.” Her usually slack face was animated. “The undecided will come to God and fight His final battle against Satan and his minions—and those who don’t declare for Christ will be doomed to hell for eternity when the savior comes to lead the world into a thousand years of peace.” “That is the prophecy then for the end of the world?” Rayner was riveted to what he was being told. Oh, he’d heard it all before a million times…yet until now he’d never actually listened. It was as if his ears and eyes were truly open for the first time. “Yes, more or less. It’s a simplified version for beginners. There’s much more to it.” “What more?” Cassandra’s aunt threw him a suspicious look, but answered anyway. “So much evil in the world will begin to show itself. Pestilence…horrible happenings…foretold… prophesized in the Bible. Wicked times. It’s already begun to show itself—as you, of all people, should know.” Rayner had heard of the Bible. A tome written by men that men pretended their God had created by his own hands. Humph. Humans were so gullible. He’d never had the desire to learn anything about it. It didn’t affect him. Except now he wanted to know, understand more. And he rarely had the chance to debate the existence of their higher being (if God was a higher being) with a devout believer. Interesting. What was happening to him? “Tell me more about your God.” Cassandra was watching him intently. Oh, if only he could read her thoughts. But, as if really seeing him, Ellie’s eyes clouded and her

Page 103 voice dropped to a cross whisper Rayner strained to hear. “Why would someone evil as you want to hear of God, tell me that? “And don’t mock Him or He’ll smite you down. You want to know about God? Read the Bible. Oh, no, that’s right, soulless creatures can’t read God’s words, can they? Burn their fingers off.” Her laugh was a crackle. Staring vehemently at him, she made the sign of the cross in the air. Rayner leaned away from the intense hatred in the old woman’s face. He’d believed she’d begun to trust him. He’d been wrong. She’d been toying with him all along. Swirling shadows had crowded out the sanity in the old human’s eyes again. Her body had begun to quiver. “And it’s getting worse.” What was getting worse, Rayner thought, her illness or the abundance of evil? He wanted to ask, but didn’t get the chance. The woman looked at her husband, her hands going desperately to his chest. She pulled him to her. “I want to go to church, George. Now. I have to talk to that new priest there. He’ll understand. God told me so. He’ll help us prepare.” “Perhaps tomorrow, Ellie,” her husband spoke softly, trying to soothe her. “Tomorrow…church…priest…promise?” She was growing more confused. “There’s not much time now. Evil,” she blurted out after a few more moments of disorientation, “is everywhere.” She peered around the kitchen as if she’d never seen it before. Her gaze returned to Rayner. “Here it is! Evil!” A gasp of horror escaped from her lips as she jumped to her feet. Her expression now one of such fury, Rayner wouldn’t have believed her capable of it. Her mind was slipping away and everyone could see that. It got him off the hook. Except Cassandra’s eyes were on him, too. “Get out of my house!” Ellie screamed at Rayner. “Get out!”

Page 104 “Ellie, please calm down.” The old man tried to soothe her, but the woman tore away from him and threw herself against the wall. She slid down into a heap on the floor, hid her face in her hands, and wept. The old man pulled her into his arms. Humans were so emotional. Their bodies so inconsequential. Their psyches easily overwhelmed with despair and disease. Rayner felt no pity, though. It was the way it was supposed to be. Did humans worry about the emotional state of their cattle? He thought not. So why, all these years, would he have been concerned with his food supply’s state of mind? He hadn’t. “Sorry. Again. She doesn’t mean what she says,” the old man apologized to him in the doorway as he escorted his wife from the kitchen. “She’s not feeling well. I need to get her to bed.” He turned to Rayner. “Perhaps you should leave now. I’m afraid she’s not going to settle down until you go. When she’s like this, once she gets something in her mind it’s hard to get it out. You understand?” “I do.” “The…end’s…so near,” the old woman wailed as she was taken away. “Evil…all around…us.” Cassandra turned to Rayner. “Will you leave now?” He heard the firmness behind her words; the uncertainty as well. “You don’t like me, either, do you?” He expected her to lie. She didn’t. “No, I don’t.” “Why? What have I done to you?” He was being devious, playing with her, knowing she suspected he wasn’t what he appeared to be. It was different having a human see he was a pretender. It was irritating and stimulating at the same time. He didn’t want to leave. Cassandra didn’t get to answer because her aunt dashed back into the kitchen and shoved a Bible into his face, ranting about him being wicked. That she was going to exorcise him from her house. He instinctively recoiled, couldn’t stop himself.

Page 105 When the book in the old woman’s hand touched him, it burned his skin. It took him so off guard he jerked backwards as if someone had slapped him. When the crazy woman came at him again, with fire in her eyes and that thing in her hands, he had no choice but to scamper towards the door. Flee. “I will take my leave,” he groused over his shoulder as he departed. “Your aunt is upset and, you’re right, it would be best if I did. Good-bye, Cassandra.” He started to say good night to the old woman, but she was too busy yelling at him. Rayner stood outside the closed door in the dark, but didn’t leave. He eavesdropped on the old woman maligning him inside. She went on and on about him not being what he appeared to be and that her niece should stay away from him. He was dangerous. Ha. She wasn’t so crazy. She saw truer than other humans. The uncle joined those inside the kitchen and Rayner slunk up against the outside wall wanting to hear more. Fascinated. They were going on about that book again. The end of the world. He’d never had to touch a Bible before. The bitter sting it’d caused made him question more things. Was there any truth to the existence of the humans’ mysterious and absent God? Was there anything in those prophecies the old woman had been going on about? He wasn’t so sure of the answers anymore. It was puzzling. He wanted to learn more. So he waited. Because he’d been seeing strange things he couldn’t explain, he had to finally acknowledge there were ambiguities in the world. Was it possible, though, that the world might actually end? And would that be so bad? At least he’d be free of the existence he’d come to loath. But how could Ellie, a human, know such a thing? Oh, she must be crazy. The old man had taken care of his wife, she must be resting, and was sitting at the table with Cassandra drinking

Page 106 that awful brown liquid humans liked so much. They had no idea he lurked on the other side of the door. “I gave Ellie a sleeping pill,” the old one said, “that the doctor prescribed for her when she becomes unmanageable. She’ll sleep for a while. “I can’t believe she reacted that way to our neighbor after how good he was to her when she was lost in the storm and all. I just don’t know what I’m going to do with that woman. I was ashamed when she attacked that man.” Then he chuckled. “Did you see the look on his face when she pushed the Bible at him? Like she’d electrified him with a stun gun or something. Could be Mrs. Tyler’s renter is an atheist.” “Could be,” Rayner heard Cassandra say, “he’s really evil like Ellie claims.” “You don’t believe that, do you, Cassie? That Rayner is evil?” “I don’t know what I think, Uncle George. You’re as a devout a Christian as I am and our religion believes in good and evil, remember? All I know is that our new neighbor makes me uneasy. Seems like every time I turn around, there he is. Twice I’ve run into him outside your door. At night. He just comes out of nowhere. When he’s around me he stares at me in the creepiest way. And lately I’ve been feeling watched. A lot.” “He’s stalking you?” The old man sounded indignant. “I don’t know. It could all just be coincidence.” “Or could not. You want me to have a talk with him?” “No, I can handle it. I’ve had practice with unwanted admirers when I’m singing at the clubs. I know what to do. Stay away from him.” “I’m sorry I invited him over tonight. I didn’t know.” “Of course you didn’t. But now you do.” “I won’t make that mistake again then, I promise.” Neither of the humans inside spoke for a while. Rayner was ready to leave when he heard one of them get up and move across the kitchen towards where he was hiding. He

Page 107 pressed his body flat against the wall as Cassandra stood on the other side of the window looking out. “Uncle, what was all that stuff Aunt Ellie was going on about before? Those dreams and the end of the world? Do you two really believe we’re in the end times?” “I don’t know. I talk a good game, but I really don’t know. The signs are there. But Ellie’s dreams and the bizarre things she says? I question if they’re not merely a symptom of her illness.” “Who’s this priest she wants to see?” “Ah, another fantasy of her illness, I’m afraid. She insists she’s always talking to him, though I don’t know how. She doesn’t go anywhere, the phone doesn’t ring that I don’t know who’s on the other end. The few times she’s been to church the last month she says when we get home that she’s talked to him. I’m always at her side and I never see him. I don’t think he’s real.” “What’s his name?” “Now, that’s odd, too. She says his name is…now let me think about it for a second because it’s a real unusual one… oh, yes, she calls him…Manasseh.” “Father Manasseh?” “I guess. But what priest would have such a peculiar name?” The old man huffed. “I’ve had priests called Father Paul and Father Luke. Never heard of one with a name like Manasseh.” “I have. And somehow that name rings a bell. It sounds familiar. It’s Hebrew, I think, from the Old Testament and means to forget or something like that.” “Should mean invisible.” The old man chuckled again. “Cassie, you always were good with knowing languages, especially Hebrew. You should have been a translator. I hear it pays good money.” “I should be good at Hebrew. Bible school, remember? You and Aunt Ellie sent me for years. I thought it was peculiar, though, that Sister Kate insisted on teaching us the old

Page 108 Hebrew names. I think that’s where I heard it before.” “Ah, I recall Sister Kate. She wanted you to become a nun like her.” “I almost became one.” Cassie ran her fingers along the window glass. “After the fire, I thought going into the church was the best thing I could do. That it would protect me from harm, from the nightmares. I felt safe there.” “I recall that. Ellie’s sorry you didn’t go into the church, but I always knew it wasn’t where you were supposed to be. I knew that when Johnny first started playing clarinet in the school band, learned to read and write music, play guitar, and then so did you; when you and Johnny started singing, in the back yard on the swings, at the high school talent shows… and now you both sing for a living. Your singing gives people joy. Gives you two joy as well.” The old man tapped the table with his fingertips. “You belong on that stage.” “You don’t have to tell me, I know that. Now.” Cassandra smiled out into the night. Rayner had the feeling she wasn’t saying what she’d wanted to say. Something was bothering her. “I still love the church. Love to go to mass and mingle with the people. I tell God my fears and secrets. I know He listens to me. But I think He wants us to do what we’re doing. For now, anyway.” Their church talk was making Rayner jittery. He didn’t like it. Cassandra was quiet for so long he thought both humans had left the kitchen. “What do you think, Uncle? Do you really believe these are the end times?” “I want to believe so, but that’s just a tired old man with a sick wife wishing for an easy way out…because if and when the Rapture comes, I pray, all four of us go straight to heaven—unless God has a further purpose for any of us here on earth. We’re believers and good people.” “I also hope, if the Rapture comes, we all go fast, Uncle. I don’t want to be here during those last seven years. Not with

Page 109 what the remaining people will have to go through.” Rayner had edged closer to the window so he could see Cassandra better. She shuddered. “It’ll be like seven years of purgatory.” She’d closed her eyes and hung her shoulders, looking worried, but it was hard to tell with her. Her face, unlike most mortals, was so secretive. “What else is wrong, Cassie?” Her uncle had come up behind her. “Something’s heavy on your mind or you wouldn’t still be here. You look exhausted. Hard day, hey? Talk to me.” Cassie? Rayner smiled, hearing it once more. He liked her nickname. It fit her. But she was frowning. He could almost reach out and touch her through the glass, but knew better than to try. Cassandra groaned. “You have no idea. If I tell you what I’m worried about, it’ll sound like I’m as unhinged as Aunt Ellie.” She gave her uncle a hesitant smile. “Well, that would be hard to imagine. But try me, child.” “It’ll sound insane.” “Nothing you could say would sound insane to me. I know you’ve got a level head on your shoulders.” A pause. “All right. Some pretty freaky things have been happening to me lately.” Ah, just as Rayner had suspected. “Like what?” “Like—” she stopped. “Nah, never mind. I don’t want to pile my problems on you. You have enough of your own with Aunt Ellie and all. It’s nothing. I’m just tired and babbling nonsense. I should go up to bed.” Damn. “You can tell me anything. I’ll listen. Help if I can. Sure you don’t want it off your chest?” Cassandra left her spot in front of the window. “I’m sure. Not now. Maybe later. It’s late and you’re right, I’m tired. I’m going to go up to my place and get a good night’s sleep. That’s what you need to do, too. You look about as used up as I feel.” “Well, it has been a couple of frustrating days for both of

Page 110 us. Night, Cassie. Come down for breakfast tomorrow? Your aunt will be more herself, I hope. Oh, and thanks for the sausage biscuits this morning. We sure enjoyed them. Ellie even smiled when she ate them.” “You’re welcome. But thank Sarah. She’s the one who brought ’em. See you tomorrow.” Disappointed he hadn’t learned Cassandra’s secret, the demon slipped into the night before Cassandra exited the door. His mind was in turmoil over everything else he’d overheard. The Rapture and the end of the world…was any of that really true or was it total nonsense? But if it were true, where did that leave him and his brethren? Would they finally have that final battle? And how exactly would that come about? Ha, his kind couldn’t get along with each other long enough to speak, so how were they going to wage a great war against the humans together? He snorted. Nothing to worry about there. The humans couldn’t get along together, either. They were forever at each other’s throats. He couldn’t picture them coming together to fight for anything or for anyone. Not even to save themselves. Unused to brooding about such ridiculous things, it rattled him more. So he stopped thinking about them. Suddenly ravenous, he went in search of prey. Yet, no matter how he shoved it away, he’d ever so slowly begun to look at humans differently. His opinion of them was changing. Cassandra, and some of the things that had happened to him lately, had done that. He just wouldn’t fully accept it yet. And that night, for the first time as he was butchering his victims, he couldn’t bring himself to look into their eyes, hear their cries; couldn’t stand to think that he was stealing their lives and setting their souls—if souls truly existed—free. Well, if the world was ending, he kept telling himself to avoid his newfound guilt, then he wasn’t stealing much, was he?

Page 111 It didn’t help.

Page 112

Chapter Nine Cassandra Morey, with Cassandra, Johnny, and Johnny’s friends’ help, made his repair deadline. The Red Carpet was ready for that weekend. It’d cleaned up well. New glass behind the bar. New front window. New chairs and tables. It looked as good as new. Better actually. The furniture was much classier than the old stuff and Cassandra had gotten a fantastic clearance deal on them. It was during the last set of the night that Cassandra began to see the creatures hiding in human bodies again. Until that night, it’d only been surreal glimpses now and again and she’d excused them away by believing it’d been the lighting or it’d been a trick of her strained eyes. No longer. This time she really saw them. Beasts behind the faces. At first, worn-out from playing for three hours, she thought she was imagining peoples’ faces, when tilted a certain way in the smoky light, transformed into…gargoyles. Or, at least, that was what they reminded her of. Gargoyles. Grotesque buggy eyes, very dark pitted skin. Fangs. Lips pulled back in snarls. When she’d seen the first one she’d nearly dropped her guitar. When she saw the second and third her hands began to shake. She forgot her lyrics. Turning to Johnny, she’d hissed, “Time for a break.” “What’s wrong with you, Sis? You’ve never stopped in the middle of a song like that. You all right?” Johnny tagged along behind her to the bar where she asked Morey for a soda, though she really wanted a shot of whiskey—but she didn’t

Page 113 usually drink alcohol. A few years past she’d had a problem with it for awhile and now avoided it. Her back was towards the crowd so she didn’t have to see what she’d been seeing. God, she was losing it. Like Aunt Ellie. No, worse. She couldn’t excuse it away with Alzheimer’s. “I have my reasons,” she snapped at her brother, her hand grabbing the glass of soda and putting it to her lips. She drank deeply after she’d smiled her thanks at Morey. It was the first time that evening she noticed Maggie wasn’t behind the bar. She’d had other things on her mind. “Morey, you don’t play bartender often. Where’s Maggie tonight?” “Don’t know. She didn’t call in. Didn’t show up. I’ve been phoning her place all evening. No answer. That’s not like her. Gonna fire that broad if she ain’t got a darn good excuse.” He shook his head and went to fill an order from someone at the other end of the bar. Over her shoulder, Cassandra met her brother’s questioning gaze but kept silent and Johnny didn’t push it. They’d find out what had happened to Maggie sooner or later. Better later. A sizeable cluster of patrons rose from the tables in the middle of the room, went out the door, and nearly emptied the place. “It’s almost closing time. There are not many people left,” she said to her brother. “You think Morey would let us wrap up early and go home? I don’t feel well.” She looked to her right. Morey was at her side. He’d heard. “Yeah, go on home, you two.” He checked his watch. “You only have another thirty minutes anyway and the place is a tomb. It’s storming bad as a hurricane outside. There are tornado warnings out. No wonder we ain’t hardly got any customers. I’m gonna close the whole place up. See ya tomorrow.” “Thanks, Morey.” Cassandra made her way to the bandstand with her brother behind her, not looking at anyone else in the bar, her head down. Johnny kept giving her funny looks.

Page 114 “You going to tell me what it is?” He grabbed her arm and turned her around to face him. “I’ll tell you later, after we get out of here.” “Can we get a bite to eat somewhere?” he coaxed. “I’m hungry.” “Sure, food sounds good. A gallon of hot coffee might clear my head,” she muttered. Or a long visit with a psychiatrist. Johnny helped pack the equipment up after they’d broadcast to the four people left in the bar, none of them hiding ugly faces, that they were calling it quits for the night. The four didn’t mind. They were getting ready to leave anyway. The storm roared like a hungry train outside. “Sneaking out early, huh?” Cassandra spun around and found herself facing Sarah. “What are you doing here? I thought you turned into a pumpkin after twelve.” The bellow of the storm outside reached a high-pitched crescendo. The lights flickered off and on. “And on a night like this. You never go out in this kind of weather. What’s up?” Cassandra almost didn’t need to ask. She’d seen her friend’s wan face. “Can’t I just come by to see a friend and hear a little good music? It’s been a long time since I did that. I would have gotten here sooner, but there are trees down on the highway. I had a heck of a time getting through—this storm’s a doozy. But it appears as if you’re done for the night. Darn it, I really wanted to hear you two sing.” “Sorry. We’re going home early, Sarah. Well, not home directly. We thought we’d get a bite to eat first. You want to come along?” “I do. After the trouble it took to get here through that typhoon out there, I’m not going home again without at least visiting with you and Johnny.” Cassandra suspected there was more to it. Her friend had something specific to tell her. “Great. Johnny and I will sing to you over supper.” Sarah laughed. “Softly, I hope. We don’t want people throwing food at us, now do we?”

Page 115 “Only if it’s what we like to eat.” Now it was Cassandra’s turn to laugh. “I can’t get over you being here.” She released a warm smile. “But I’m glad you are. How did you know I needed someone to talk to?” “I read your cards tonight,” Sarah mouthed with a frown. “That’s why I’m here.” “That bad, huh?” “Oh yeah, that bad. I had to see you. Then, on top of it, I had a sort of…vision. Truth is, I’ve had a couple of them lately.” “Visions?” That was new. Was what Cassandra had catching? She’d finished putting her guitar in its case, ready to go. Johnny had come up behind her, waved hello to Sarah, and was lugging his guitar out to his car, which he’d gotten running again. Sarah seemed embarrassed. “I know it sounds nutty, Cassie, but I’ve been seeing things. Strange things. Like fuzzy flashes in my mind. When I’m awake. Warnings, I think, kind of. I don’t know, because they’re incomplete, but it’s scaring the stuffings out of me. I knew I needed to see you as soon as possible.” “These visions…are they about me?” “Some.” Sarah avoided her eyes. “I’ll tell you about it when we go eat. You need any help getting anything out to your car?” “No. We only take our guitars home during the weekends. Leave the rest because we’ll be back Friday and Saturday night.” “So, we’re ready to go?” “Yep.” Cassandra lifted her guitar case from the floor. She said good-bye to Morey as she passed the bar. He nodded at her. “Careful driving home now, Cassandra, with this storm and all, ya hear?” “I will.” “Where we eating?” Sarah asked as she followed her

Page 116 towards the door. “The little diner three blocks away from our house called Greenfield’s. It’s open all night.” “I know it. Best pot roast in town.” “I’ll meet you there. Johnny’s probably already there.” She laughed. “You know him. The boy with the perpetually empty belly. He’s talked me into buying him a late dinner. Again.” At the door, Sarah placed her hand on Cassandra’s arm. “Be real alert driving, Cassie.” Her friend’s hand was very warm. “Stay away from the dark.” She didn’t know what to say to that. “I’ll try. But I believe it’s dark all over outside now being it’s nighttime. But you can escort me out to the car if you like. Tail me over there. Just to be sure I’m safe.” She said it in a joking manner, but this time Sarah didn’t even crack a smile. “I will. I’m parked behind you.” The storm raged around her vehicle as she drove to the diner. She didn’t understand why Sarah had come out so late, in such foul weather, couldn’t it have waited until tomorrow for heaven’s sake? but it was as if a prayer had been answered. She desperately needed someone to talk to besides Johnny. He didn’t have the advice, the answers, she needed. Johnny was more afraid of her abilities than she was. The winds battered her car. She had a tricky time getting the seven miles to Greenfield’s because, on top of everything, a clingy blanket of fog had surged in. She was sick of the unrelenting rainstorms, the bizarre heat lightning, and the noise. It was as if the world of nature was at war with the world of men. It’d been the worst summer for weather she’d even lived through. Hurricanes, one after another, had devastated the southern seacoast and spawned monster tornadoes that furthered the devastation inland. More than the normal amount of earthquakes, tornadoes and floods had ravished the country—the world—and the injury and death totals were

Page 117 high. And it was getting worse every month. That, along with what was happening to her, was weirding her out. Once the three were seated in a booth, Sarah revealed her vision. “I saw you talking to an angel.” “You’re kidding.” “I’m not. It had radiant white wings, bright halo of light, the whole holy card picture.” “What did I say to it?” Cassandra couldn’t help but let a smile slip out. An annoyed expression on her face, Sarah went on, “I don’t know. I couldn’t actually hear the conversation. Dream speak, you know? All garbled as it was. But that’s not all of it.” She paused and the words tumbled out in a whisper. “I saw these hideous…monsters—it’s the only way I can describe them— like the evil characters from some horror show, overrunning a town.” “Now that’s spooky, huh? What do you think it means?” “You tell me, Cassie,” Sarah finished. “What does it mean? I have the feeling somehow that you know exactly what I’m talking about.” Johnny watched Sarah, his mouth open, and then looked at her, waiting. “You going to answer her, Cassie?” he prodded gently. “I know something strange has been going on with you for a long time now. Maybe it’s time you tell us. Maybe we can help.” “I don’t think you can,” Cassandra moaned. “But, you’re right. I can’t keep it to myself any longer. It’s making me psychotic. Let’s order first, then I’ll tell you all about it. Okay?” “Okay,” her brother and friend agreed in unison. A waitress had been hovering behind them and the three ordered coffee and pot roast suppers. Cassandra wasn’t that hungry, but knew she should eat to keep up her strength and

Page 118 pot roast sounded as good as anything else. When the waitress left she confessed, “I’ve been seeing things, too, Sarah.” “Visions?” “Not exactly. It’s not easy to explain. But here goes.” She knew Sarah was going to be hurt that she hadn’t told her sooner, but that couldn’t be helped. This was her chance to get another point of view. Some support. “I think I’ve been seeing ghosts and, the last few days these dreadful looking creatures creeping around in the shadows or hiding behind peoples’ faces. I don’t know what they are or why they’re appearing to me…I only know they’re scaring the hell out of me.” She felt ridiculous putting her fearful hallucinations into real words. Sarah believed in tarot cards and telling fortunes, sure, but when it came to seeing unearthly apparitions she was pretty levelheaded. “You’ve been seeing…ghosts…and ugly creatures hiding behind peoples’ faces?” An incredulous smile spread on her friend’s face. “You’re pulling my leg now, to get back at me for that card reading crap I’ve been laying on you, aren’t you?” “I wish I were.” “Could be,” Sarah’s voice was soft, “they’re demons.” Sarah, too, had been raised in the church, but had drifted away over the years. Religious in her own way, she just wasn’t into organized religion. She still believed in heaven and hell. Good and evil. Angels. Apparently spirits and devils, too. “So what I’m seeing are ghosts and demons, huh?” Cassandra was cold. Sarah began to grin. “Could be. Let me ask something. Do you see these things everywhere or just, you know, in graveyards and dark empty rooms?” “I told you, I’m dead serious.” No smile. And she could see, by the shocked expression on Sarah’s face, that she was finally getting it. Really getting it. “I have been seeing eerie, frightening things I can’t explain for weeks. True, the ghosts hang out mostly in the graveyards. I don’t stop to talk to

Page 119 them. By themselves they’re unsettling, but what I’ve been experiencing lately is really scaring me. These monsters behind human faces…I see them in the streets, mainly at night, and in the crowds when Johnny and I play.” She turned to her brother. “That’s why I got so upset tonight and stopped singing in the middle of the song. I saw them clearer tonight than I ever have. Seeing and feeling the hatred I get off of them, makes my blood go cold. W hat are they? W hat do they want from me?” No one uttered a word. Johnny’s stare contained pity. He didn’t believe she was seeing spirits or fiends from hell. Probably thought she was imagining things or badly needed a vacation. That taking care of two sickly old people, the stress of living in a hard scramble world; a tragic past, had unbalanced her. Sighing, she glanced at Sarah. Her fingers crept across the table. “You believe me, don’t you?” “I…believe you.” “Now I’m seeing them everywhere.” Her voice was shaky. She had to finish before her nerve gave out. “I can’t even begin to explain the way they make me feel. Fearful. Hopeless. Desperate. “And—” she might as well spill everything, “there’s this creepy neighbor who when I look at him I see something else. I don’t know what, but it’s not human. I can’t stand to be around him. “Seeing these things has changed my whole life. I’m a basket case. Am I crazy?” Sarah surprised her by saying, “No, I don’t think you’re crazy. If you are, so am I. It’s possible you are seeing demons. And your neighbor’s one. Why not? I’m seeing visions. “I was talking a few weeks ago with your aunt and she claims the Bible foretells these things. I told you your cards were apocalyptic. I’ve been thinking…the opposing sides could be assembling and for some reason, in one form or another, we’re aware of them. Especially you.”

Page 120 It wasn’t the answer she’d been hoping for. In fact, it’d been the answer she’d been hoping not to hear. “Oh, boy. Lucky us. Me. Now you really do sound like my aunt and uncle. You think we’re in the end days, too, huh?” “I don’t know,” Sarah stated bluntly. “I just know something’s very wrong in the world. I feel it here.” She placed a hand above her heart. “Something truly big is about to happen.” “Oh. Like the coming of demons and the end of the world?” Sarah swallowed and her hands messed with the napkin under her utensils. “There have been signs for a long time now, Cassie. In the cards. What my other psychic friends have been reporting to me. Something is coming. Something huge. Maybe it is the end. “That’s what I came out to tell you tonight. I couldn’t wait another minute. I’m worried for all of us. This evening the cards showed something terrible happening to one of us real soon. If not me, then someone close to me. I don’t know what or who it’ll be, but it’ll be bad. I had to warn both of you. I love you two like a sister and a brother.” Johnny was gawking at Sarah as if she’d lost her senses, too. Gently rocking his head back and forth, he mumbled, “You’re both nuts. But I still love ya’s.” Their food arrived and their conversation faltered as they ate. Johnny gulped down his pot roast in big bites while Sarah and Cassandra merely picked at theirs. They kept exchanging distressed looks, but didn’t say anything else. They were thinking over what had already been said. Letting it sink in. The windows were streaming with rain on the outside. A bolt of lightning illuminated the parking lot. Her eyes widened. Something was out there. She looked again. “I don’t believe this. They’re out there now.” Her voice was a hoarse croak as her body stiffened. She kept looking outside, then down at her plate, and back outside again; willing the shadowy forms to dissipate.

Page 121 “Now?” Sarah asked conspiratorially, her head tilted downwards; her eyes also stealing nonchalantly to the dark parking lot. Cassandra bobbed her head, holding her breath. Had they followed her from the Red Carpet? What did they want with her? And most importantly: Were they dangerous? “Where?” “Outside in the parking lot. Skulking around the cars on the ground in the rain. There are two of them. I think. Misshapen bodies and ugly faces. Look. One’s peering in at us right now with red glowing eyes and—oh, my God—fangs. It sees me. But I’m not going to let it know I can see it. I’m looking away as if nothing is there.” Her voice had fallen to a mere whisper. “What are they doing now?” Sarah kept her gaze on her, pretending nothing was wrong. “They’re both watching us now.” Her voice still a breathy whisper. “Oh, look at the way they’re sneering, making faces at us. They hate us, Sarah, they hate us.” Johnny rolled his eyes, ignored her warning, and looked. “There’s nothing out there. You’re freaking me out. What are you two talking about?” He’d found his voice. “The creatures she’s been seeing,” Sarah jogged his memory. “They’re out there. Now.” “Can you see them?” Johnny was staring outside. Gawking like a curious child. Sarah shifted her body and casually snuck a peek, replying in a subdued voice, “No. But it doesn’t mean they aren’t out there. The cards say Cassandra is the one in the center of this. Not me. I guess she’s the only one that is supposed to see them.” “So you don’t see them?” Johnny asked Sarah for the second time. “No, I don’t.” He kept looking outside. “Ha, all I see is a rainy night. Don’t see nothing or no one out there leering in at us. Monsters or

Page 122 people. You guys are nuts.” He waved a dismissive hand at them. “They’re gone now.” Her shoulders slumped. Her face felt heavy. She was bleary-eyed from the constant stress. “They’re fast. They move like quicksilver.” “Cassie,” Sarah asked compassionately, touching her hand, “is there something else you want to tell me?” “No—yes.” She swallowed. “Besides seeing death before it comes, gargoyles and spooks hiding everywhere…I think I can heal by laying on hands.” Johnny gasped. Sarah just blinked at her. A rabbit in the headlights. She turned to her brother. “You know that cut you got in the bar fight the other night that bled, but when we examined it, it was gone?” She paused for effect. “Well, I think when I put my fingers on it, it…healed. Just like that.” Her fingers snapped in the air at his eye level. “I knew it,” Johnny responded, slapping a hand lightly on the table. “That blood, the pain, had to have come from something.” He was watching her closely, doubt now in his eyes. “Someone’s giving you these powers, Cassie,” Sarah said. “There’s a reason for these things you’re seeing and doing. I wish I could find out what it is. I’m going to talk to this one seer I know. Lottie Durning. She’s the real thing. We need answers.” “How about talking to a priest?” Cassandra suggested. “Wouldn’t that be more enlightening?” “Now that’s another approach. We could try that.” “That does it, you two.” Johnny pointed his fork at them. “You both need a good rest. Camping, fresh air, and the beauty of nature is what you need. Time away. And I’ve got just the thing. Next weekend there’s this music festival down in Breckinridge Park. Three entire days of musicians sitting around jamming and hanging out together. Do you remember the place Dad used to take us when we were little

Page 123 kids, Cassie?” “Sure, I remember Breckinridge Park. The woods. So cool. So restful. Good times. I always felt at peace somehow in those woods.” Giving him a small smile, a fleeting image of her sisters and brothers romping around the campground as her father and mother barbecued supper beneath the trees skittered across her memory. Flies buzzing around. The sun was bright and dappled the leaves on the shade trees. The aroma of roasting meat was everywhere. Her family had been there, young and happy. She could still hear their laughter on the breeze. Sometimes they’d take Dad’s wreck of a boat, the one they were forever working on, and try to launch it on the lake. Sometimes it even stayed afloat. Most times it didn’t. But the family had fun playing with it. “Then let’s go.” Johnny looked excited about something for the first time in weeks. “We can camp out the whole weekend like we used to. I’m sure Morey would let us have the time off if I find a substitute band to fill in for us. I know just the band. Fred Comet’s trio. They need the exposure and would jump at the chance. What do you say, you two? Music, musicians, tents. Eating yummy food cooked out on a grill? Listening to the crickets and frogs at night. The cool forest air. It’ll be heaven.” “Heaven, huh?” Sarah teased. And after what they’d been discussing they all smiled. “Camping is my idea of heaven, yes.” Johnny used his finger to mop up the last of the gravy on his empty plate and licked it off. “The music festival sounds like fun—but in this rain?” Cassandra remarked half-heartedly. “Will the festival even be held if it’s storming like this?” “Oh, rain or shine it’ll go on. But it’s not supposed to rain next weekend, weatherman promises, Sis. Even if it does, remember how much fun it is to huddle in a tent together, sing, and play our guitars with others musicians while the

Page 124 rain plays harmony on the canvas?” “I think we should go,” Sarah interjected. “Just what you need, Cassie. A vacation. I can get away. I’ll come. I know that festival and they have crafts. I’ll put my card reading booth up. Make some money. It’ll be business and pleasure in one weekend. Johnny’s right. We need a couple days away. Rest. Relaxation. An adventure. Let’s go!” Cassandra was unsure. “What about those warnings you’ve been seeing, Sarah? It’s pretty secluded in the woods. The night’s dark among the trees. Something could happen.” Johnny was the one who spoke. “Me and Sarah and a whole crowd of campers will be there to protect you. You’ll be safe.” “You know, it does sound like fun to get away from the city. The heat. To camp out below open skies, hear other musicians. Be with old friends. Let me think about it. I’ll let you know.” She finished picking at her meal as her eyes scanned the diner. There were people at the counter, two in another booth, but she wouldn’t let her gaze wander to the windows. She didn’t think she could bear to face one more repulsive thing that night. In her mind, she kept seeing those ghoulish visages in the bar crowd. She thought of the man in the maroon shirt, and others, who’d died. Life was short. Precious. It shouldn’t be all work and worry. Maybe she did need a break. “Okay, I’m in,” she blurted out. “Let’s go camping next weekend.” “Hot dog, Sis. Are we going to have fun.” “Good, then if you two are done eating, let’s collect our doggie bags and get out of here. I need sleep.” After leaving money and a tip for the supper, grabbing her purse, Cassandra stood up. “We’ll talk more about the camping trip tomorrow,” Johnny said as Sarah paid her tab and Cassandra paid for her and Johnny’s. “And other things,” Sarah added. “Now we all need to go

Page 125 home. Get a good night’s sleep.” They dashed out into the rain and got in their cars. Amid lightning flashes, the other two vehicles appeared tiny, unreal, as she drove away. On her way home, she caught the tail end of the news on the car radio. They reported a four-car traffic accident earlier that evening. Maggie Sounder had been one of the drivers who’d died in it. That was why Maggie hadn’t been at work. Cassandra felt dreadful though she knew it’d been coming. Maggie’s poor kids. Once more guilt assailed her. She should have warned Maggie, it might have helped. This time. She should have tried to save her. Should have done something. Pulling her car over to the side of the road, she put it in park and wept on the steering wheel. She didn’t know why she’d been given these cursed insights, but she abhorred them. Knowing when people were going to die. Seeing wraiths and ghouls. It was torture. Why her? Where would it stop? When she raised her head, she was gazing at her church. If she ever needed someone to confide in and comfort her, she needed someone now. Her weariness forgotten for a greater need, she switched off the engine and entered the large stone building. It was as she got to the front doors she remembered they locked it up tight each night at ten o’clock. Standing in the rainy dark beneath the ledge covering the entrance, she faced the closed doors and was about to turn and walk away when they opened. “Come in,” someone called from inside. “We are open.” And she did. She liked being in Holy Family at night when other people weren’t around. The ambience, smell, and familiarity of the old church composed her. The ceiling and walls of marble and granite towered above her; the sweet perfumes of polished wood and incense mingled with the scents of the people who’d prayed there over the years and made her feel serene.

Page 126 God dwelled there. She could feel him. She’d never met the priest who was kneeling in the pew at the rear of the church. She knew the three priests that ran Holy Family. Father Luke, the elderly priest who’d been there the longest and knew everyone; Father Dave, who was good with the older people; and Father Steve, who was good with the young people. This man wasn’t any of them. He must be new. Could it be the priest Ellie talked of all the time? The man stood up, a welcoming smile on his face and black robe swishing against his legs, and strode towards her in the church’s faint lights. It struck her how much he resembled her brother. They could almost be twins. Medium height, spare of frame, and rail thin. The priest’s brown hair was lengthy on the sides, but balding on top. It made him look like a monk from the old days. His face was long and narrow, his forehead creased from thought, his lips thin, but he had the kindest eyes, like Johnny’s, she’d ever seen. It was hard to tell what age he was. He could have been thirty or fifty. There were people who when Cassandra first met them it was as if she’d known them for all her life. This priest was one of those. “I can see you’re wet and tired, child,” he said coming up to her. “Here, sit down and rest.” “Thank you, Father—?” “Manasseh.” Ah, Ellie’s invisible friend. So he did exist. She was relieved, for Ellie’s sake anyway. She put her hand out. “Hello, Father, I’m Cassandra Graystone.” He took her hand in his. His was so warm. “I know your aunt. Ellie Graystone.” His eyes were sympathetic. “A godly woman. How is she these days? I haven’t seen her here for weeks.” “She speaks highly of you as well, but she hasn’t been in the best of health lately.” “Ah, the Alzheimer’s, a terrible illness. But God is

Page 127 watching over her, Cassandra. Never doubt that. She has not been forgotten and neither have you.” What a strange priest, she thought. She smiled and sat down in the pew he’d gestured her to. “I’m surprised to see the church open so late.” “Tonight is special. I was expecting someone.” “Oh, then I’m intruding. I’ll stay here in the back and say my prayers quietly. I came to light a few candles, too, and afterwards I’ll be gone.” “No, you’re not intruding. You look as if you need a friend. As if you need someone to unburden yourself to. That is why I’m here,” the priest said, sitting down next to her. He smelled of trees and fresh winter air. She felt blessedly cool around him. It felt good. “I came to pray,” Cassandra explained. “I feel the need to. It’s been a horrible week.” The priest hung his head. “In that case, let us pray.” He recited a prayer she’d never heard, his voice almost spellbinding and it gave her peace of mind. She felt the troubles she’d been carrying drift away. After they finished praying, he asked, “What is wrong, Cassandra? Tell me everything. That’s what I’m here for.” She didn’t understand why—he was a stranger after all— but she told him what was bothering her. Most of it. Not everything…she didn’t want him to think she was as ill as her aunt. But once she began talking about the unusual things that were happening to her and how alone and frightened she felt, she couldn’t stop. There was something about him that drew her secrets out and, in the end, she told him everything. He didn’t act like any priest she’d ever known. No matter what she said, he seemed to believe her. Never once made fun of her. She spoke about knowing when people were fated to die, the healing power she might have, and the strange things she thought she was seeing everywhere. It all gushed out.

Page 128 “I’m afraid I might just be delusional,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Unwell like my aunt. Ha. It could run in the family.” The lit candles in the front of the church flickered; their smoke, a living snake of mist, wafted around the inside of the church. Once, when she looked over at Father Manasseh she could have sworn there was a faint halo of light around him. It had to be a trick of the shadows and candlelight. It had to be. “Father, could I be going insane?” “No.” His eyes found hers. He didn’t flinch. “You’re not crazy, Cassandra. You are seeing exactly what you believe you’re seeing…demons.” “Demons?” She stared at the priest. He was serious. His voice was a raspy murmur. “Some of us are given gifts, my child…to see…to know things others do not…and will be called upon to perform extraordinary tasks as the end days approach. Your talents are God-given for a purpose and in time you’ll know what that purpose is.” “Don’t tell me that the church actually thinks, as do my aunt and uncle, we’re in the end times, too?” Shocked, she couldn’t process what he was saying. But somehow when he said it she thought it might be true. He wasn’t lying, wasn’t frightened. His steady gaze appeased her. Priests didn’t appease a mad person, did they? “I can’t speak for the church, but I know it’s true. There have been omens, though only God knows when the true end of the world will come. Yet I’ll tell you this: your aunt is right. These are end times. Do not doubt yourself, child. God is with you.” I can’t speak for the church. What kind of priest was he, anyway? “And you’re saying that I’m really seeing ghosts and demons?” Her lips twitched nervously. “You’re humoring me, aren’t you?” “I’m not. And no, for the record, there aren’t such things as ghosts…you’re only seeing demons in different incarnations.

Page 129 There are only demons. They reside in the forms of man, supernatural entities, and beasts, and do as much mischief and wickedness as they can manage. Just as there is God in the heavens, there is Satan in hell and he has his minions here on earth. They do his bidding and cause great misery.” His voice was softer still. “One of your gifts is to be able to recognize them. So do not doubt yourself. You see what is really there.” Flabbergasted, she thought: What a strange priest. His beliefs bordered on the fanatical. The truth was, though, she no longer felt desperate. Alone. Speaking with him consoled her heart, dampened her fears. He made her feel strong. Safe. And sane. He made her believe all he said. Outside, thunder rumbled, one booming roar after another, and rocked the world. If she could hear it inside the fortified stone church, the storm was a bad one. “It’s late, Cassandra. The tempest rages outside these walls. The creatures you fear wait. Yet, you are safe here tonight.” Father Manasseh stood and looked down at her. “You must set aside your concerns, your fears, and rest here awhile. Then go. God be with you.” He touched her forehead. She became so sleepy she couldn’t keep her eyes open. As she reclined in the pew, her eyelids closed. The last thing she heard before she fell asleep was the Father’s voice. “Stay away from Rayner. Ellie sees true, he is one of the evil ones and means you harm. Avoid him.” Yes, Father, she thought dreamily. Yes. In the morning, her eyes opened again. The priest was gone. She felt refreshed, happy, as if she’d slept in her own bed. No aches or stiffness. Light streamed through the stained glass windows and people were coming in for the early mass with Father Luke. She’d slept all night and she was hungry. Had the night before and her visit with that unorthodox priest been a dream? Probably. He couldn’t have told her what she’d thought he’d told her.

Page 130 She used the restroom in the front of the church, then stayed for mass. On her way out, she spoke with Father Luke. For as long as she could remember, he’d been at Holy Family and had to be no more than a day away from retirement. He’d known her whole family; had christened and confirmed every one of them. She liked him. Trusted him. After genial conversation for a couple minutes she mentioned: “I just met the new priest.” “What new priest? As far as I know, we don’t have a new one here at Holy Family. Just Father Steve, Father Dave, and myself, as always. The diocese won’t budget in a fourth priest, though, God knows, we need another one. Last few years, our congregation’s numbers have exploded. Oddest thing. I’ve never seen so many parishioners as we have now. We can hardly fit them into the church at Sunday masses. You’d think the world was coming to an end.” He chuckled good-naturedly as the crowd spilled out the doors around them, a flood of babbling humanity; their conversation interrupted as someone moved up to speak to him. “Say hi to your aunt and uncle for me,” his voice trailed after her as she was shoved down the steps by the departing multitude. The fireworks had ceased, but the skies were overcast and the wind had a chill in it so unlike August. There was a queer feeling to the air. Strange scents. Perplexed, Cassandra made her way to her car. If there was no Father Manasseh then who had she been talking to last night? W hoa. Another trick of her mind? Ha, and she thought her aunt’s sanity was slipping. On the way home, she replayed her visit with the mysterious priest over and over. What she’d said. What he’d said. She had talked to him last night. She was sure of it. He’d made her feel as if she wasn’t crazy at all. Made her feel as if everything was happening for a reason. It couldn’t have been all in her mind…could it?

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Chapter Ten Cassandra Cassandra hurried from the car to the house, looking straight ahead. She couldn’t bump into anything else she couldn’t explain. If it happened in the daylight, she’d go off the deep end. Inside her flat, she took a shower and put on clean clothes. She felt recharged and not tired at all. Her night of sleep in the church had done wonders for her. Ought to sleep there more often, she thought. Ought to chat with nonexistent priests more often, because her mood had improved, too. She’d come to the conclusion that the answer to what had been happening to her was simple. It’d been the power of suggestion. That’s why she was seeing the things she was seeing. Her uncle and aunt had gotten to her with their talk of the end times—and her lack of sleep and worry over her problems hadn’t helped any, either. She’d be better now. Day was here. The sun was out. After she’d cleaned her apartment and picked out the clothes she’d wear that night at the club, she telephoned downstairs. “You got a pot of coffee on, Uncle George?” “Sure do. Also have a mess of flapjacks coming off the griddle in minutes. You timed it just perfect, girlie. Come on down.” “I’m coming.” She had breakfast with her aunt and uncle. Her aunt, for once, was herself and they had a fine visit. Ellie rattled on about the shirt she was sewing for George and the new dress

Page 133 for herself. “I could make you a dress, too, Cassie. You’d look pretty in this flowered print here.” The old woman smoothed her fingers over a pile of material patterned with delicate blue and lilac flowers. “It’s been a long time since I saw you in a dress.” Her aunt made a face at what she was wearing. “That T-shirt and those awful cut off jeans don’t do you justice. You don’t even wear make-up much anymore. No jewelry. And why do you always have to pull back your hair in that ponytail? So unflattering. Tsk, tsk. I’d even pay for your hair cut.” “I don’t want to cut my hair. I like it like this. Stays out of my eyes. And I don’t wear dresses, Auntie. I haven’t for years. You know that. It’s not me.” “More’s the pity. You’re an attractive woman, but you try hard to hide it. You’ll never get another man if you don’t pretty yourself up more.” She’d heard it before many times and responded as she usually did. “I don’t want another man. I told you. My family and my music are all I need.” For now anyway. “I’m happy as things are.” As always, she placated her aunt. She had to be careful what she said to her these days. She never knew what would set the old woman off. “Okay, if you make me the dress I promise to wear it.” Knowing that would probably never come to pass. Ellie’s breaks with reality were coming more and more frequently. Lasting longer. It was rare that she was this clear minded this long so she, as well as her uncle, wanted to enjoy it. The dress wasn’t worth fighting about. Ellie could make her a sack dress, and she might not wear it, but she’d love it. Cassandra told her aunt and uncle about their plans to go to the music festival the next weekend. She didn’t mention she wanted to get away and clear her head; didn’t bring up possibly seeing demons. She didn’t want to send Ellie off into

Page 134 the Twilight Zone again. But she had to ask about the priest. “Aunt Ellie, I met your Father Manasseh last night at the church. Unusual fellow for a priest, though. His beliefs don’t strictly follow the Church’s, do they?” It wouldn’t do any good to actually bring those beliefs up with Ellie, so she didn’t. “No. He has his own ideas, all right.” “Funny thing is, Father Luke has never heard of Father Manasseh. Aunt Ellie, who is he?” Her uncle sent her a questioning look. What Ellie said after that bewildered both of them. “Well, first off, Cassie, he’s not my Father Manasseh. He’s an angel from God.” Oh, no, the other Ellie was back. She hadn’t seen it coming. Yet…her aunt didn’t act like she’d relapsed. Her eyes were unclouded and her voice wasn’t that childish one she adopted when her mind went off somewhere else. “He told you that?” “Oh, not in so many words. He put the thought in my head, though, and I know when I’m in the presence of an angel.” Really? “How come you never told me about Father Manasseh being an angel?” Her uncle directed the question to his wife, plainly hurt. “Because you didn’t believe there was a Father Manasseh to begin with, silly. You thought I made him up. So I didn’t say anything that would make me look even nuttier than you two already think I am.” It didn’t sound like the other Ellie, either. Too rational. Her aunt looked at Cassandra knowingly. “But you saw him—the angel—didn’t you?” Uncle George raised an eyebrow at her. Waiting. She couldn’t lie to either of them. “Well, I met someone who called himself Father Manasseh. We talked together when I’d stopped to pray last night at the church. He was average height, had kind eyes, and was going bald on top.”

Page 135 “That’s him. In looks, he reminds me of your Uncle George here.” “Angels don’t appear for no reason to just anyone, Ellie,” her uncle spoke up, acting now as if he might be talked into believing his wife. “What’s he here for?” “For Cassie,” Ellie replied matter-of-factly. “For me?” “He says he’s your guardian. Says you’ve got a big role to play in coming events and that there are evil entities, that’s how he put it, that would hurt you if they could. He’s very protective of you. He’s also my friend.” Last night she’d been talking to an angel? No, she couldn’t believe that. Cassandra covered her face with her hands to collect herself. She was going nuts. She peered through her fingers at her aunt. Evil entities. Angels. Danger. The end of the world. For heaven’s sake, stop it. “That’s enough talk about this mysterious Father Manasseh,” her uncle insisted, steering them to another topic. “Cassandra, I got some more of those unreadable bills from the doctor’s office yesterday. I can’t make any sense of them. Could you help me out?” She took her eyes off her aunt who was now reading the newspaper as if they’d never had the discussion about the angel. “Sure, Uncle George. I’ll give it a go.” Her uncle fetched the paperwork. While he was out of the kitchen, her aunt ate a second helping of pancakes and lost herself in the newspaper’s headlines. Cassandra wasn’t hungry anymore. She kept going over her imaginary meeting with the priest of the night before and still wanted to believe she’d gone to the church and in her distraught state had fallen asleep in the pew. That she’d dreamed her encounter with him. Thinking about it was giving her a headache. She finally decided just not to think about it anymore. Last night had been such a strange night all around.

Page 136 “Cassie, don’t worry.” Her aunt looked up from the funny papers. “That angel’s been looking out for you real good. He made sure that lightning bolt didn’t hurt you the other night, didn’t he? It went all around you, but didn’t toast you.” Her aunt giggled. “He’s really powerful, but not as powerful as his—our—God.” Her cup of coffee stopped half way to her lips. “You saw the lightning hit me last week?” “Not really. Oh, I was there, but I was busy getting rescued and it was raining so darn hard I couldn’t see a thing. Father Manasseh told me about it. Said for me to tell you it wasn’t no accident. It was evil trying to harm you. But God took care of it. You’re one of the special ones.” Cassandra didn’t want to accept an angel had told her aunt she was invincible. Protected by God. Ellie must have seen the lightning hit near her and made up the rest. That had to be it. Her uncle returned to the kitchen. “Oh, by the way, Cassie, your friend from next door was looking for you last night.” “Rayner?” Cassandra again heard the priest’s warning in her head: Stay away from Rayner…he is one of the evil ones and means you harm. “What did he want?” “Wanted to know where you and Johnny was singing.” “Did you tell him?” “No. I recollected you didn’t much cotton to the man, thought he was stalking you…so I misdirected him to that place on Forty-Ninth Street.” “Thanks, it worked. I didn’t see him at the club.” Unless he’d been one of those beast faces hidden behind a human one and, hey, that wouldn’t surprise her one bit if he had been. She helped her uncle decode his medical bills then went out to shop for the three of them. Later, she spent time alone in her apartment pulling together her thoughts. She called Morey and they talked about Maggie’s untimely death and that there wasn’t going to be a local funeral. The family was taking her body up to Seattle. Her folks wanted

Page 137 the burial up there. So that was that. Maggie was gone. The afternoon had become cloudy and a fine lace shawl of mist descended to cover the grass and the trees and churned down the darkening streets. She didn’t want to leave the house, but had to go to work. Those things she’d been seeing, partial to the night and the fog as they were, would be out there waiting for her. She listened to the evening news. There’d been another category five hurricane on the Florida coast. Rare enough. There was another one right behind it closing in on New Orleans again. Thousands of people were dead. Thousands more injured. Homeless. There’d been the worst earthquake in a hundred years in Japan. There were erupting volcanoes in Hawaii and super tornadoes in Illinois. More dead, distressed, and dispossessed. The weather unnerved her. She wondered how bad it’d be in a year. Two. She took out her Bible and her pearl rosary from its tiny silver mesh purse, the one her aunt and uncle had given her for her first communion, and she prayed. It made her feel better. Nothing happened out of the ordinary to her that night, the night after, or for the rest of the week. She saw no more fiends in the crowds’ faces; no more ghosts in the graveyards she passed. No invisible targets on people’s foreheads. No shadow creatures slinking between parked cars. She didn’t see Rayner. Ellie was healthy and happy and didn’t have one bad spell. Johnny’s car didn’t break down. The world was as normal as could be—for the rest of the week.

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Chapter Eleven Cassandra, Sarah, and Johnny “I’ve been looking forward to this weekend.” Sarah sat beside Cassandra in the front seat of the car. Johnny was driving. The three had been trading jokes and laughing. It was Friday morning, seven o’clock. The sun, though lackluster in appearance, was shining. They’d gotten up early so there’d be time to stop for breakfast and get to the campgrounds soon enough to stake out a choice spot for their tents. She and Johnny loved camping out at the weekend music festivals. Sarah missed the conveniences of home. She’d brought along an extra-thick air mattress, blankets, and more junk food than they could eat in a month. “I get ravenous telling peoples’ fortunes and pocketing their money. I expect to make a bundle this weekend,” she said, rubbing her hands together gleefully. “I hear the crowds are going to be huge. Seems like everyone wants out of the sweltering city.” For Cassandra, the weekend was about getting into the woods, soaking in the peacefulness of nature—and barbecuing hamburgers and hot dogs over a grill. They were there to enjoy themselves, not work. No peacefulness for Johnny. “I can’t wait to jam with other musicians around the campfires. I heard the focus this weekend is on old country and bluegrass. Anything acoustical.” “No rock or heavy metal?” Cassandra asked, smiling. “Nope. Neat, huh? Our kind of people. It’s going to be so

Page 139 laid back. So mellow. There are bluegrass groups lined up to play tonight, the entire day tomorrow, and Sunday morning. Sunday morning is strictly gospel music, of course. Wish we were playing.” He was looking at a piece of paper he’d copied from the Internet listing the groups and bands that would be there. “Not me. Pay’s not so hot. I’m here to rest, little brother. Not work. But you go ahead and sit in as many times as you want. Sing, strum, and socialize your heart out. I’ll stay in the audience and cheer you on. You’re just lucky Morey let us have the weekend off.” “No luck involved. I told you I’d get that replacement band to cover for us. Morey was happy to oblige. He thought we’d been working too hard and needed the time off anyway.” It wouldn’t surprise her if her brother had told their boss she was having some sort of nervous breakdown or something. She didn’t care. She was content to be heading to the woods and the festival. Happy to know she’d be among musicians all weekend. Musicians were sensitive people. Surely, none of them would be beasts in disguise. They found a campsite by the lake tucked beneath towering oak trees and put their three pup tents up close to each other. They covered them with tarps for the rain whenever it might come. So far it’d held off, but the forecast for the weekend had changed into possible sporadic thundershowers, which meant it would positively rain on them sooner or later. Folding chairs were set up. The picnic table was covered with a plastic tablecloth. The coolers were overflowing with soda and meat. A bag full of snacks kept the tablecloth from blowing away. “Well, I’m off to set up my booth.” Sarah strolled towards the noise. “Come on.” Johnny grabbed Cassandra’s hand. “Let’s mosey about the campsite and see if there’s anyone here we know.” They met singers and songwriters from the local music

Page 140 circuit, acquaintances from other festivals, and an old neighbor of Ellie and George’s, Peter Halloday, who was there with his wife and five kids. “It’s truly a small world,” Johnny remarked after they left the Hollodays’ camp. “Sure is.” Johnny joined up with two guys he knew, Rick and Norman, from a country group and when they began discussing women, Cassandra meandered back to the campsite to get an apple. Weaving between the tents, she munched and took in the sights. There was a quartet of troubadours practicing their rendition of a Beatle’s medley. Not bad. Someone was off key, though. Cassandra loved the Beatles’ music even if they’d been popular before she’d been born. “You were born too late,” her aunt always said. “You would have fit right into the sixties.” Next campfire had a group of folksingers singing modern folksongs with five part harmonies. Pretty good. One of them, a tall lanky guy with silky long blond hair, gold rimmed glasses, and smiling eyes, was sort of cute. Cassandra stopped to talk to him when he caught her eye. Flirted a little with him. He flirted back. The cute guy had heard her and Johnny sing many times. They asked her to join in if she wanted, but she shook her head and moved on. “I’m slumming this weekend,” she told them. They understood. Musicians were pretty understanding, too. As she strolled off, the cute guy grinned and waved at her. “See you later,” he said. Perhaps she would and perhaps she wouldn’t. Musicians, and she should know, were also notoriously fickle. She usually made it a rule not to get involved with one, no matter how cute. Perhaps she’d make an exception this time. It was relaxing to amble through the park in the shade of the trees, breeze on her face, and the chirping of birds in her ears. It made her nearly forget there was a scary world

Page 141 beyond the picnic tables. The day had grown cloudier, and was cooler in the woods, in the low eighties, than the city. The heat wave of the months before was on vacation as well. She made her way down to the bandstand where the bands would be playing in an hour or so. The stage was constructed of wood and decorated in flowers, banana-yellow ribbons, and American flags. The flags a tribute to the fighting American troops in Russia, Korea, Iraq, Afghanistan, Iran, and across the Middle East. The wars were escalating every day. They made Cassandra so sad. The bandstand was nice. Real rustic. Centrally located, in a hollow cradled by trees, so the campers could hear the music wherever they were because the sound would travel. There were three men on stage testing the equipment and the PA system; joshing and grinning. Must be the first group getting ready to play. She recognized one of them, Jim, she thought his name was, as being the banjo player for the Blue River Canyon Band. Good band. Jim wrote most of their songs and they weren’t half bad with their old-fashioned blue-grassy melodies. Johnny would be happy to hear they were playing. He liked them a lot. She found herself smiling. This had been a good idea. This campout. She felt better than she had in weeks. The only drawback was they’d left her aunt and uncle alone for a whole weekend, and what with the way Ellie was behaving, that worried her. But she’d telephone every morning to check on them and to make sure they were okay. They were only an hour away if they had to beat feet back home. She browsed among the craft booths that had sprouted up everywhere around the campers and tents. She bought a couple of sparkly beaded bracelets for herself and Sarah. A tiny hand blown glass angel for Aunt Ellie and a jar of homemade strawberry preserves for Uncle George. Homemade fudge brownies for her brother.

Page 142 She kept an eye on Sarah as she read cards off of a folding table for a string of people in shorts and blue jeans. During a break in Sarah’s customers, she stepped up. “The cards seem to be harsh today, my friend. Bad news for the last three you read for. Accidents. Failed romance. Financial trouble. That happens often?” Sarah scrunched up her mouth, her fingers reshuffling the deck in preparation for her next patron. “No.” Her lips were curved down. “It’s been like that for months. A lot of bad luck. Told you something big is coming. It’s bleeding into everyone’s life. “I brought an extra chair.” Sarah nodded her head to her right. “Sit down here by me.” Cassandra sat down. The next person Sarah read for, thank goodness, got a hopeful reading. Her new business, a coffee and craft shop, would prosper. She’d end up marrying her boyfriend. Or so the cards said. After the woman left, Cassandra said, “Now that was better. I was beginning to think your cards were…marked.” She grinned. It was an old joke between them. “No one marks the cards here but God,” Sarah replied the way she always did. But she still wasn’t smiling. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t tell her everything. Sure, her shop will do well; she’ll get married. What I didn’t tell her was that after that she’d see the death of some people very dear to her. An unpleasant tragedy will soon befall her sister…and she’ll never have kids.” “That’s it.” Cassandra sprung to her feet. “It’s time for charring the hamburgers and hot dogs. Lounging around over the campfire. No more bad news. You returning to camp soon?” Off in the distance, the music of guitars and mandolins filled the air. The festivities were beginning. The sun hovered on the horizon and, with the blanket of ashen clouds above, shadows changed the evening prematurely into night. There were the smoky mouthwatering smells of roasting meat and wood campfires on the

Page 143 air. There were the mournful cries of a harmonica and the thrumming strings of a stand up bass. Soft voices singing familiar old songs. Mirth. Everything was so perfect it brought tears to her eyes. And a sudden melancholy found her. She had an intuition there wouldn’t be many weekends like it after this one. She didn’t know where the thought came from, but she was afraid it was true. Sarah put the cards in her purse; folded up the table and chairs. “You bet ya I’m coming. Right behind you. I’m through for the day. All that misfortune depressed me. A big juicy hamburger with all the trimmings will cheer me up though.” “You and my brother. You’ve got bottomless bellies. I’m not sure you two aren’t related. Here, I’ll help.” She took two of the chairs from her friend and followed behind her to their tents. Johnny was cooking the meat over a roaring fire and looked up with a self-amused grin. “I started without you two. It’s almost done.” “I don’t believe it. My brother’s actually cooking something, not mooching it.” Pushing the hair away from his face, Johnny snorted. “Hey, I cook a lot. At home. For myself. You just don’t see it.” “Yeah, sure. But thanks for grilling the meat, Johnny. It’s sweet of you.” Johnny puffed up. “Five more minutes or so and we eat. You girls can get the rest of the fixings and plates out, okay?” “We can do that.” Cassandra dropped the chairs on the ground by Sarah’s tent. Then she collected the paper plates, plastic utensils, and buns. Got out the condiments and cans of soda. They ate with gusto, music floating all around them, as dusk crept in. Voices carried over the campgrounds as people sat around their fires talking and laughing just as they were doing. “The Blue River Canyon Band is here,” she mentioned

Page 144 to her brother. She’d devoured two hamburgers and was stuffed, but couldn’t stop eating. Pork and beans disappeared from her paper plate. Everything tasted so much better in the fresh air. After their meal, the sun was low in the sky and the woods were diffusing into a soft velvet ash color. There was the scent of rain, but so far no raindrops. If there was a moon rising it was hidden behind the trees and clouds. “I know, Jim came by earlier. Asked me if I’d sit in with them at nine o’clock tonight and at seven tomorrow evening. They’re a guitar player short cause Dave couldn’t make it. He’s visiting his mom who’s in the hospital. Do you mind, Cassie?” “Of course I don’t. I don’t own you. Go ahead and sit in. Do what you want to do. Sing your lungs out. Blow them away with your finger work on the six-string. Have fun.” Johnny was happiest when he was on stage. It didn’t matter where or with whom. “I’m sure Jim would like it if you sat in, too. You want me to ask?” “Nah, I’ll pass. Remember? Vacation? I just want to lie around in my reclining lawn chair. Listen to other people work. That’s a treat for me.” “Suit yourself. Since Jim wants me over at his campfire at eight o’clock to compare songs we know and practice some, I’ll just fetch my guitar from the car and go. You two going to come over and watch at least?” “We wouldn’t miss it,” she promised him. Johnny marched towards the vehicle. “Now I know why,” Sarah ruminated out loud, “he brought the six-string along.” They were sitting at the wooden picnic table the park supplied each campsite. Both had slipped sweaters on, as the woods around them were cooling off. A mandolin strummed on the evening breeze. “Oh, I knew why he brought that guitar along from the moment I saw it in the rear seat. Johnny can’t say no when it comes to sitting in and people like the sound of that guitar.”

Page 145 “Nope, Johnny can’t say no.” “You going to get the cards out anymore tonight?” She fidgeted in her chair, her eyes examining the inky woods beyond the campfire. Was there something moving out there…something not human? Had they followed her here from St. Louis? “No.” Sarah fell silent, but studied the tree line. “Tomorrow morning when the sun returns and the world is bright, safe, again I might. Not now. Too risky. I think I’ll huddle before the fire with you, eat junk food, and enjoy the free music.” “The band playing now is good. Wait until you hear the Blue Canyon Band. They’re even better.” “I can’t wait. Now, isn’t this so much better than inhaling a lungful of nasty smoke in a bar and watching silly people get rip-roaring drunk? Or being caught in the middle of a bar fight? Though I’ll miss your singing, Cassie.” “This is way so much better.” Johnny swaggered past them with his guitar case. “See you two ladies later. Save me some of those Oreos. I’ll be hungry when I get back.” He waved a hand at them, and merged into the shadows. The two women laughed. After listening to the Blue Canyon Band for an hour, Sarah got up and stretched. “How about we take a walk on this lovely evening. Work off some of that food we’ve had?” “Ah, you can’t fool me, you want to go watch Johnny play and scope out the men.” “You know, Cassie, you’re the one who needs to be searching for a man. Not me. I’m not looking anymore. I’m sure Walter’s the one.” “I’m thrilled to hear it. I was hoping you two were serious because he sounds like a great guy. Generous. Has a job. Rare these days. Treats you well. So I have a good feeling about him. You’re happy when you talk about him.” “He makes me happy, that’s why.” Sarah reached out and tapped her arm. “Cassie, you avoided answering my question

Page 146 about you finding a man.” “You know that’s a touchy subject. I don’t want anyone now. End of discussion.” When she refused to say more, Sarah, probably knowing she’d made a mistake in even bringing her love life up, added, “With Walter and me. It’s love for sure. But I want to go down to the bandstand anyway—if you come along with me.” “Ah, afraid to brave the woodsy paths alone, huh?” “There might be wild animals out there.” “Okay, I’ll go with you. But in a minute.” After sundown, the surrounding woods had chilled the air. Shivering, Cassandra crossed her arms and scooted her chair closer towards the fire. Sarah did the same. “Okay, Sarah, I know your moods so well. What is it?” “Like you, I don’t care much for the dark, away from the city, and especially after what you’ve told me. It’s spooky in the woods. There’s no moon tonight. Easy to run into a tree. Or into other…things.” “What are you afraid of?” she asked. “I don’t know. It’s a feeling I have.” Her friend avoided looking at her. “Ah, it’s nothing. Never mind.” “Sarah?” The other woman shook her head and said more firmly, “Forget it.” She knew when to stop. With some things, Sarah was as stubborn as she was. “Don’t worry. I brought flashlights. I’ll be with you. Protect you.” Her friend sent her a grateful look. She rose from the chair. “Well then, let’s go heckle the entertainment. Johnny will be expecting us to be in the audience. We don’t want to let him down, do we?” “Nope.” The two, flashlights held out in front of them, threaded their way along the trail through the trees. She noticed that Sarah jumped at every noise. “Lost spirits wander in the dark,” Sarah had said as

Page 147 they began to walk the path, “and though I sometimes communicate with them through the cards, I’ve never met one in the ectoplasm, so to speak. I’ve always told you I’d like to meet a ghost…but after what you told me the other night I’m not sure now I really what to at all.” Cassandra had never taken any of her friend’s spirit talk seriously…until lately. It came to her now that Sarah had good reasons for being afraid of dark places. Like she herself did. The remainder of the evening they enjoyed the bands and socialized with people they’d never met before. Johnny played with The Blue River Canyon Band and no one could tell he was just filling in. A quick study, he was skillful at adapting. He did a couple of is own songs and was great. After the concert, at their own campsite, the three sat closely around the fire as the temperature dropped. It didn’t feel like summer, but fall. Cassandra loved it. Fall was her season. They reminisced about old times. About their childhood. “Remember when Dad used to take us and the boat down to Lake Carlyle?” Johnny poked the fire. She and Sarah roasted marshmallows. There were faint echoes of music drifting between campfires, volume low because it was getting late. “You mean the boat that kept sinking?” She laughed, remembering the small speedboat that had consisted of rotted wood and holes. “We worked hard on that boat,” Johnny protested. “Patching it. Painting it. Trying to keep it afloat. Dad loved it.” “It was a piece of junk,” she said aside to Sarah. “Dad never had enough money to buy a decent boat; never had enough to fix that poor excuse for one, either.” “We had fun in it, though, didn’t we?” Johnny smiled wistfully into the firelight as he added wood to it. He’d brought along pieces of copper pipe stuffed with hunks of old garden hose. When he threw them in they burned, producing a myriad of bright colors. Uncle George had taught him that

Page 148 trick. “Except it sank almost every time. What made you think of the boat?” “It’s this place, Sis. Reminds me of Carlyle Lake. The way the land dips past the bandstand, the species of trees and undergrowth. The smells. That creek running through to the lake.” She’d thought the same thing earlier when they’d arrived. The woods around the creek were so familiar they’d given her an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu…and a feeling of loss. Her brothers and sisters had run rowdy, happy, in those other woods. They’d played and sailed the boat in those other woods. “It does me, too.” “Also,” Johnny continued, “these woods remind me of our old homestead. Remember how we used to play hide-and-goseek in the woods behind the house? Remember the time—it was winter and the snow was real deep—we lost Jason and after hours of searching we found him in that deep crevice in the nearby field? Crying because he’d fallen in and couldn’t get out?” Johnny was deep in memory mode. Sarah, who used to come over and play with them, was listening. “That was an awful long time ago, Johnny,” Cassandra murmured gently. “Sometimes I can still see our outings in my head as if they happened yesterday. I can see their faces. Hear their voices.” He meant their dead brothers and sisters and their mother and father. “Even though I was just a baby most of those years.” “I can see them, too,” she stared out into the woods. Their neighboring campers had quieted down because it was after twelve. There weren’t many people left awake. Yet there were strange noises beyond the campfire she was more conscious of as the night progressed. Grunts. Scrapping. Snarling? The noises were most likely other campers across the lake, her good sense told her. Her imagination thought

Page 149 differently. “Remember, Cassie, how we used to sing at the moon on the swing set in the back yard at night?” Johnny reclined in his chair; peered into the sky. “Yeah.” Now it was Sarah’s turn to laugh. “I thought you two sounded like scalded cats.” “Thanks, friend.” She stretched her feet nearer to the fire. There were the most brilliant green flames eating at the log in the middle and a lovely shade of lavender on the fringes. “Although I thought we sounded pretty darn good for little kids.” “Not at first. I have to admit, though, you two have gotten better as the years have gone by. A little, anyway. Instead of scalded cats you sound like harmonious cats now days.” Cassandra threw a twig at Sarah. “Remember how we used to go looking for wild strawberries or blackberries in the woods behind the house?” Johnny asked. “How delicious they’d been? Yummm.” “Yeah, anything we could find to eat. I recall wild grapes, too, at the end of someone’s yard. A cherry tree with bitter cherries. With nine of us, there never was enough food and we were always scrounging around for stuff to fill our bellies. That’s why you’re always hungry now.” “Could be.” Their father had been a siding salesman. Groceries and other necessities had often been scarce between commission checks. Sometimes nonexistent. They’d often gone hungry. “You think?” Sarah and Johnny exchanged a knowing look in the firelight. As children, Sarah had brought them sandwiches or snacks; had them over for lunch or supper at her house a lot. As children, Sarah, an only but lonely child, had been the wealthy one. The three talked a while longer about the good old days, after that Johnny called it a night and retired to his one-man tent. Soon they could hear him snoring.

Page 150 “I’m not sure, but I think I see the tent moving,” Sarah said and both women laughed. Cassandra kept her eyes on the murkiness around them. The woods had fallen silent. Too silent. Where were the crickets and the frogs, the owls in the trees? “Cassie, I’ve wanted to say something to you since our little discussion last weekend. You know…about what you’ve been seeing?” There was uneasiness in her friend’s tone. “I’m not taking any of it back, you know.” “I know. And I believe everything you told us, probably more than you think I do. I have something for you. I waited until Johnny went to bed to give it to you. I don’t think he believes everything yet, but he will soon enough.” Sarah dug in her jacket pocket and brought out something that shone in the firelight and handed it to her. Something silver on a woven chain. “It’s beautiful,” Cassandra breathed, holding the long tapering silver cross with elegant etchings over it up to the firelight. It was unique. She’d never seen one like it. “Looks old.” “You have no idea. Thousands of years, perhaps. I don’t know. I got it from that gypsy psychic friend of mine, Lottie, who lives in Seattle. You know the one I said I was going to ask about you? Well, I did. She saw danger ahead just as I saw and sent me this cross for you. A gift. “She claims it comes from Jerusalem. Hinted it might have belonged to someone very holy…perhaps even the mother of the Messiah. No one really knows, but anything’s possible. It’s been handed down through Lottie’s family for centuries. She said it was waiting for you.” Cassandra examined the delicate cross. “Unbelievable. Waiting for me? Why?” “Lottie wouldn’t or couldn’t say. She just wanted you to have it.” “She—you—want me to wear a holy talisman? You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Page 151 “Very. After you told me about seeing those hideous creatures I telephoned Lottie and that’s when she sent me the necklace to protect you. A friend she trusted dropped it off last night on his way to California. Lottie says it’s very potent. Blessed. Look, see that red smudge? She says it’s blood. Rumor is that Christian martyrs wore it. “And she swears it’ll protect you. Please, put it on. Right now.” “I don’t know what to say, Sarah. Why would Lottie give me one of her family’s most priceless heirlooms?” “Like I said, she believes it was meant for you and you need it. That you’re special. I’m happy she sent it to you. I don’t want my best friend to be hurt.” “Hurt?” “Lottie thinks you’re in grave danger. I’d take her seriously. To my knowledge, she’s never been wrong.” Cassandra brooded on that for a moment and nodded. It wouldn’t surprise her if she were in danger. She’d sensed it now for weeks. “I’m touched. Thank her for me, please?” She clasped the amulet around her neck. Where it touched her skin the flesh felt warm. “Or, better yet, give me her telephone number and I’ll thank her myself.” “I will. Lottie wants to talk to you anyway. You’d think you were some celebrity or something.” “Yeah, sure. I sing in a bar with my brother. I see death and ghouls. Some celebrity.” She brushed off the compliment, but couldn’t deny the shiver that crept up her back and into her neck. “She thinks you might have some vital destiny or something.” “Or something.” She let out her breath, her fingers on the necklace. “Johnny thinks I’ve gone over the edge and, to be absolutely honest, I’m afraid I have, too. These things I’m seeing and feeling…what if they’re all in my mind? What happens if I’m truly crazy?” “They say that crazy people don’t think they’re crazy.”

Page 152 “So, I’m not?” “Well, since I’ve known you all my life practically and know you, I don’t believe you are. Be almost better if you were.” Sarah squeezed Cassandra’s arm. “Because if what I fear comes to pass none of us will be very happy—except those, as your aunt and uncle tell us, who’ll just go immediately to heaven. Rapture, isn’t that what it’s called?” “Yes.” She could have said: Oh, no, that can’t happen. That can never happen. But she was no longer sure. The world wasn’t right and she’d seen too much. Sarah shook her head slowly. “Well, then I’m in trouble. I haven’t been a religious enough person to think I’ll be taken straight away in the Rapture with the true believers. And most of the people left behind, though many will be basically good people, will be confused. Scared. They won’t know what to do. Some, there’s no getting around it, will be bad people. Yikes. Imagine what the world will be like after Rapture. “Then there’ll be years of catastrophic and supernatural disasters. It’s not going to be fun. Who’d want to be the ones still here? I know I don’t want to be.” “Sarah, the whole Rapture scenario is religiously intriguing, but, come on, do you really believe we’re close to it? I don’t know what’s happening, but it can’t be that. It can’t be.” “Well, we’ll know soon enough. Lottie and many of my other clairvoyant friends have also been seeing signs for years now. Most of them have kept quiet. Until now. They’re frightened. “Anyway…Lottie says to wear that cross and keep your eyes and ears open.” Cassandra cradled her head in her hands and sighed. “I can do that.” They climbed into their tents to sleep. But Cassandra couldn’t find rest. There was something sinister about the sudden dead stillness in the countryside. She was anxious for the night to end, the sun to rise and chase

Page 153 away the darkness crowding in. It might be childish, but the feelings wouldn’t go away. They’d only gotten stronger through the evening. She hadn’t wanted to walk through the dark woods to the bathrooms at four A.M., but no way out of it, she had to. Grabbing a flashlight, she thought of waking Johnny or Sarah to go with her, but felt silly about it. What was she, a wuss? There were people sleeping all around her. Dawn was near. The restrooms were close. Nothing would happen to her. So she crawled out of the tent and made her way down the path. The forest hushed and she shivered with the chill. Her flashlight beam bounced in front of her. She’d made it halfway when the whispery rustlings among the hulking trees began. With each step, the racket grew louder. Now it was a sort of hissing. She began to make out words. Or she thought they were words. She’s alone. Get her. She’s the one. Now! Before the sun comes. She froze in place; her heartbeat so loud it rivaled the din around her. Snapping off the flashlight, she let her eyes adjust to the dark and saw the crimson orbs glittering back at her. Hundreds of them. Not human. Not animal. Something else. She switched the light on again when she thought she saw the orbs rushing at her. She’d never been so afraid. Not even when she’d seen the ghosts or the beastly faces in the bar. But she was more vulnerable now. Alone. The fingers of her left hand found the cross around her neck. “Protect me, Jesus. Help me get through these woods, please…help me.” She prayed out loud so the things in among the trees would hear her. There were flashes of light above the woods plunging into the ground like long ragged needles. So swift she wasn’t sure she’d seen them. The invisibles howled and growled and uttered nasty

Page 154 curses, or what she thought were curses. Then came the resonance of retreat with smashing limbs, claws dragging across underbrush and screeches of pain that faded away into the night. Was that something burning? There was a bitter stench on the air that made her want to gag. Burning flesh? Silence. Strangely, no one else in the campground appeared to have heard the commotion. The flashlight blinked off. The malevolent eyes had vanished along with the whispers. She was alone. The relief of her being safe made her a little dizzy. She switched the light back on. She ran to the restroom, used it, returned the way she’d come, and slid into her tent. Snuggling into her sleeping bag, she prayed until the sun came up. She was never so happy to see the morning arrive as that day. Unable to stay in bed a moment more, she got up to stoke up the campfire and make coffee. The campground was stirring. The familiar chatter of fellow campers up early enjoying the new sun, pots and pans clanking, the voices of children and people shuffling around making breakfast, comforted her. The sweet aromas of bacon and eggs pleased her nose. When Sarah and Johnny joined her, she said, “We can stay through the day, but I want to be out of here before dark tonight. No back talk. I mean it.” “Ah, Sis…I’m supposed to play with the band again tonight.” Sulkily. “Tell them you have an emergency at home. Tell them anything. Or get your own ride home. I’m not staying. Sorry.” “Okay, what happened?” Sarah wanted to know. “Something did. Tell us.” Since Sarah wouldn’t leave her alone until she answered, Cassandra described the experience she’d had in the night woods. Johnny stared at her as if she’d just said she’d seen a spaceship land among the trees. Disbelief all over his face.

Page 155 But he threw his hands up in capitulation. “Okay. We’ll go home.” Sarah put her arms consolingly around her and scolded, “What were you thinking going into those woods alone after all the warnings you’ve had? You need to stay away from the dark…didn’t I tell you that?” “Yes.” “I guess that relic worked then, huh?” “Either that, the praying, or something else.” Johnny rubbed his sleepy face with his hands, garbled something that sounded like I have a sister and a friend who are crazy, crazy, crazy and then said, “I’m going to make breakfast. Maybe your sanity will return with a full stomach.” “You’re cooking again? That’s funny. At home you never cook.” “Yeah, I’m cooking again. You think I’d let a crazy woman fry my eggs? No way. You’d probably burn them…seeing creepy-crawlies in the flames or something.” “Very funny. I’ll help, though.” She got the pan out. Sarah set the picnic table. As her brother fried eggs and sausages in the skillet, he kept mumbling words under his breath she couldn’t quite hear. He didn’t really mind going early, he confessed later as they drove home, he just didn’t know what to make of all the weird things she’d been seeing. “You might not think so, but I’ve had a hard enough time accepting that you know when a person’s going to die. Now I have to swallow that you’re also seeing ghosts and fiends. I’m really worried for you, Sis. What next?” “I don’t know, but I’m worried about me, too,” she’d mumbled. Just stay away from the dark, she repeated to herself as the scenery sped by. That’s all she had to do. Yeah, sure. If it would only be that easy.

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Chapter Twelve Rayner Rayner had discovered where Cassandra and her brother sang on the weekends. He’d asked Mrs. Tyler. She’d known because George had told her weeks before. Rayner went there. He couldn’t go into the bar. Cassandra and Johnny were singing on the other side of the door. He could hear them, wanted to see them, but he couldn’t stand to be among all those inebriated humans and the other demons. The humans were bad enough—all he wanted to do was bite them and shut them up—but the other demons he absolutely couldn’t stomach. He didn’t know why or when it’d begun, but he no longer could tolerate those of his species. It’d been that way for centuries yet he’d never felt it as strongly as the last few decades. It was an obsession. His kind made him sick with their stupidity, their bloodlust, their detrimental loathing of humans. Their stench even made him ill. Not that it mattered how he felt about them. They didn’t accept or trust him either. He wasn’t like them anymore. Past that realization he hadn’t gotten much further. Things were changing. He was changing. He accepted that, but he couldn’t figure out where he fit in anymore. Not in the demon world, that was for sure. Not in the human world. Humans were terrified into fits when they saw his true self. They thought they were good and he was evil and never would the two puzzle pieces fit. Cassandra had something to do with the way he’d begun to feel. For the first time, he wasn’t looking at mortals as

Page 157 merely prey. When had that happened? About the time he’d met her. The hidden world was roiling furiously and in the real world there was a thickness to the air. Everywhere the gloaming was filled with strange noises. Rayner was alert to it, could hear it, because the noise was his own kind. There were thousands fighting to get out…more every day. And many were seeping from the other world into the human one. His brethren were building their numbers. Proliferating at a staggering rate. Why? He didn’t know the answer, but the situation interested him enough so that he decided to seek out an extremely ancient one of his kind to consult with. Brynmor. Something he’d never done before. Brynmor was older than him by at least a millennium. Perhaps he’d know what was going on. If Rayner could find him. Last time he’d seen him, several hundred years past, Brynmor had been on his way back to Africa, a continent where there was abundant prey to hunt and endless places and superstitions to hide within. A blood drinker could get and remain lost there. Rayner would have to track Brynmor down if he wanted to confer with him—if there were still a Brynmor to track down. If his mentor still existed. No one, not even demons, were immortal. Then there was the transporting. It’d been a long time since he’d transported across oceans and continents. It took a great deal of concentration to levitate that far. Power. It was dangerous. He’d have to really put his mind to it. It’d been eons since he’d cared enough about anything to go through such trouble. Oh, he could take one of those airplane flying-contraptions. But they made him airsick. Claustrophobic. Not to mention hours squeezed in tight with humans with their sordid, petty emotions and demons with their vindictive thoughts and horrible smells. No, he couldn’t do that again.

Page 158 The music inside the Red Carpet had stopped. Rayner checked his wristwatch. One o’clock. Following his plan, he left the front of the building and made his way to the parking lot and Cassandra’s car. It was beneath a streetlight so he waited in the shadows a few feet away. He’d sabotaged her car. Oh, nothing major. Loosened a few spark plug wires. Easy to do. Easy to fix. He wanted to win Cassandra’s trust; helping her when she was in need might do that. He let her get in the car and attempt to start it. The engine wouldn’t start. He waited until she’d opened the hood and was trying to figure out what was wrong before he walked up. “May I be of assistance, Cassandra?” She jumped. The look on her face was fear, which she then hid. Seeing it hurt him and that was another revelation. He’d never cared what a human thought of him before. He’d never experienced hurt before. Until now. “What are you doing here, Rayner?” She turned away to fool with the engine, pretending not to be afraid. Very brave of her. That or she knew he couldn’t hurt her. “I was inside the bar listening to you and your brother,” he concocted a small lie. She’d never know he hadn’t been inside. “You two are really good. Your voices blend so perfectly. I’m impressed. I fully enjoyed it.” He leaned against the car and observed her hands. They were nowhere near the spark plugs. So she didn’t know what was wrong with it yet. “Thanks for the compliment. I didn’t see you in there.” “Oh, I was in the back and, truthfully, hadn’t been there real long.” Another fib. “What are you doing? Following me?” He recognized the controlled anger in her voice. “Sorry, I wasn’t.” Another untruth. “A friend dropped me off earlier and was supposed to return and drive me home. So far he hasn’t. So I’m stranded. Since we’re neighbors I thought you might give me a ride home.”

Page 159 “You did, did you?” Every time he edged closer, she edged away. She didn’t want him anywhere near her. He’d never harmed her in any way so why was she leery of him? “I mean, since I did help find your aunt that time—” “Gee, too bad my car’s acting up. So sorry, can’t help you out. I’m not sure how I’m going to get home myself if I can’t get it running. Johnny’s off on a late date, so I can’t call him. Probably have to call a tow truck. It’ll take hours. Or hitchhike home.” “Let me have a look at it then?” He didn’t give her time to argue before he had his head stuck under the hood. Rayner knew about cars. He’d studied them over the years. He knew how to tune them up, change a tire, and, yes, drive them. Teleporting himself through the air was faster and cheaper, though. And no car insurance, gas, or repair fees. No way of being tracked. But sometimes taking a car was the only way to appear…human. He faked fooling around with different parts of the engine and eventually got to the spark plug wires, replacing them in the correct order. “There. It was only a few loose wires. Try starting it now, Cassandra.” Thunder boomed once, twice, and three times in the sky behind him. A few stray raindrops spotted his clothes. The car started right up. “Can I have that ride now?” She hesitated, not answering for so long he thought she was going to say no, but instead she surrendered. “How can I refuse since you so expertly fixed the problem?” Her words dripped with insincerity. She got in the car. He got in on the passenger side then watched Cassandra edge herself as far away from him as she could get. Why did she act this way towards him? They drove down the highway with lightning veining across the sky like claws of light. Rayner made polite conversation for a while, but when the rain began to rap on the roof he couldn’t bear her unmistakable distain any longer.

Page 160 “Why do you dislike me so, Cassandra?” It must have taken her off guard because she paused, glaring out the window as the lightning repeated its dance above and around them. She turned and gave him an icy stare before her gaze returned to the road. In her eyes he saw what she saw: A monster sitting beside her. It was easy to see. It was all over her face. “I’m weary of this game you’re playing with me, Rayner. I have the right to choose my friends and I don’t choose you. That’s all. Simple. There’s something off about you. And I’m sick of acting as if I don’t notice it, when I do. When I look at you I see someone or something else—primitive and repulsive—staring out at me from behind your face. You aren’t human. “What are you anyway?” She recalled what the priest had said. “A demon?” Rayner couldn’t help himself, he laughed. Which he hadn’t done in so long he couldn’t remember the last time he had. In all his years on earth, no mortal had ever asked him that so bluntly. “You can really see me, then? See through my disguise?” “Oh, boy.” She was startled by his candid admission. “I can. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to, but I can.” “And I suppose you’ve been seeing many more of my brethren lately? Seeing other strange things as well, right?” She wouldn’t answer him. “Ah, you have. I knew it. You are…special.” “I’m not, that I know of. But I won’t put up with your deceptions any longer. Are you a demon or aren’t you? And what do you want from me?” He blinked at her. Lies raced through his brain, but something made him tell her the truth. “I guess your kind calls me a vampire because I need blood to survive. But, really, I’m not what you think I am.” He couldn’t believe he was humoring a human. What had gotten into him? “I’ve seen so much—”

Page 161 “Are you a demon?” She asked again. “Evil, no soul, and one of Satan’s own?” For the first time in his whole long torturous existence, he didn’t know what to say. He actually stuttered. “Evil? Depends on what you call evil. I don’t believe I’m evil. I kill to survive. Humans kill also. I don’t know what a soul is. A lot of humans don’t know, either. But I don’t think I have one. That I’m aware of anyway. Satan’s own? No. I don’t think I know him.” “Sure,” she deadpanned. Her hands were shaking on the steering wheel. She wouldn’t look at him, but kept her attention on the road. Lightning lit up the interior of the car. He thought he saw something glowing around her after it had receded. “I don’t care what you think you are,” she snarled at him, “you’re not human. You don’t have a soul. In my book that means you’re evil. I believe in God. So I can’t stand you being around me, much less being a friend. You get it now?” He looked at her. Once more he had that sensation of being sad. Or he thought it was sadness. He wasn’t sure. She hated him. Didn’t want anything to do with him. She wouldn’t allow him in her life. She didn’t want him around at all. And how strange that he even cared. “I’ll tell you what I have never told another human,” he purred in his most beguiling voice. The voice that ordinarily made humans do anything he wanted. “I don’t know what I am. I feast on mortal’s blood and flesh. My kind live centuries. Millennia. I do not think I’m evil. I just am.” “You kill us, eat us, and you don’t think that’s evil?” “Are you evil for killing and eating a cow? A pig? It’s survival. Does it make me evil?” “Cows and pigs are animals. A human has a sentient life and an eternal soul. Evil or not, if you kill us, for any reason, that makes you our enemy.” He could feel the tension between them. It was as cold and hard and real as stone. “I don’t want to be your enemy,

Page 162 Cassandra. You’re different. You make me curious to find out more about your kind. How many are like you?” “Do you mean how many of my kind can see you?” There was a cunningness in her question that didn’t escape him. What was she up to? “Yes.” He used his highest mind control to get an honest reply, but, as usual, she was too strong willed and elusive for him. “Probably a hell of lot more than you think.” And, he thought, she wouldn’t tell him even if she knew. “Here are a couple of questions for you, Rayner. How many of your brethren are there? Why are they growing in numbers?” He was surprised. “I have no idea to either.” Of course that wasn’t the absolute truth. He’d been concerned with the increase for months. Yet how did she know about it? “You getting ready to attack us? Take us over?” she demanded. “Are these the end times?” “Attack you openly and show ourselves? That would be unwise. Our strength is that you don’t believe we exist. And the end times? What are you talking about?” “Never mind,” she muttered. She was speeding, the car flying and bumping down the road, as if she couldn’t wait to get where she was going; couldn’t wait to deposit him out of her presence. Oh, now he knew a little about the end times. That’d been what the old woman had been babbling about the other night in Cassandra’s kitchen. He’d overheard other of his associates talking about them over the centuries. Even before that he’d heard the fairy tale of the end of days and his curiosity was whetted further, so much so that he had to hide it from her. But his growing restlessness, the strange things he’d been witnessing, and the proliferation of his species; the bizarre weather, Cassandra’s powers and how a human was able to see him…was all beginning to make sense—if it signaled a great change coming.

Page 163 His excitement piqued. Perhaps the end times weren’t a myth. Imagine if it were true that the end of everything was coming when for centuries he’d longed for it. Or did he still long for a final conclusion to his existence? He peered at Cassandra. Perhaps he no longer did. “If demons exist,” she whispered so softly he almost didn’t hear it, “do angels exist, too?” She wasn’t speaking to him, but was asking something or someone else. He wondered whom. “You see angels, as well?” he sputtered, stunned, taking a wild guess. What would it mean if angels were real and here among them? It couldn’t be good for his kind or him. They pulled up in front of her house. She twisted around, an angry stare on her pretty face. “We’re here. Now get out of my car and get away from me. I don’t want to see you anywhere around my family or me ever again. I warn you. Stay away.” He could see her white knuckled hands clenched on the wheel. See the fear in her eyes she tried to hide. Ah, she was afraid of him. But she wasn’t backing down. So brave for a mortal. “I cannot hurt you, you know. You’re safe.” Now why had he said that? “So you’ve tried to hurt me?” There was that fear again. He shouldn’t have said anything, but did. “You seem to be protected, so don’t fear me. I can’t harm you. I don’t think anything can. I saw the lightning strike you out in the storm the night your aunt ran away. I saw what happened. W hat you did.” “What did I do?” Her desperation made her face sharp and reminded him of a cornered animal. Now she looked like one of his prey. He found he didn’t like it. “Please. You scared the lightning away. You were stronger than it.” But he didn’t feel the need to tell her about him being blown away from her window by a gust of wind. Too humiliating.

Page 164 Too incriminating. “That’s ridiculous. Nothing happened. The lightning struck nearby. It missed me. That’s what happened. That’s all that happened.” Her voice was too shrill. “It hit you. I saw it.” “Why are you telling me this? Why are you stalking me? What do you want from me, other than to gorge yourself on my blood or my flesh? Oh, no, that’s right. You can’t do that, not to me anyway, because you’ve tried.” Her scorn wasn’t lost on him. With a sigh, he smiled at her, attempting to come across as human as he could. “I’ve told you I mean you no harm. You intrigue me. That’s all. I want to know how you can see me; how you can scare the lightning away. What other powers you have.” He’d moved in close, using the full influence of his mind control on her again, and felt her stiffen. “If I had powers, you really think I’d tell you? You really think I’d tell you anything?” He tried another strategy. “I know Ellie and George—those are their names right?—are your aunt and uncle, and Johnny’s your brother. Do you have any other family? A mother and father or any other siblings?” Tell me about yourself. Your weaknesses. Give me a way to get to you. “Get out!” Her fingers closed around something at her neck. She unclasped it and shoved it into his face. “This is a blessed relic. Very holy. I don’t think you’ll want it touching you.” The heat of what she had in her hand burned him long before it got near his skin. Scrambling out of the car so fast he was a blur, he didn’t even care if she saw his inhuman speed. The door slammed shut. She left him standing out in the night worrying what the heck that thing she had thrust at him had been and why it’d affected him the way it had. A holy relic? Ha! He’d never believed in the power of the Church. He only

Page 165 stayed out of the houses of worship because the incense made him nauseous. Or that was what he always told himself. The chanting and praying hurt his head. He’d never known blessed objects could affect him that way, either—but then it’d never been put to the test. No relics ever shoved in his face. Cassandra was the only one who’d ever known what he was so no one had ever tried to repel him before. Now why had she done that? He’d told her he couldn’t hurt her before she’d produced that trinket. Humans. He shook his head and disappeared into the night. He’d waited too long to feed and was ravenous. Angry, too. He wasn’t used to mortals treating him the way Cassandra had treated him. Who did she think she was? He made a sound that could have been another laugh. That was the question all right. Who was Cassandra Graystone that she could fluster him so? And what was that whole thing about angels? It wasn’t his way to give up. All he had to do was be patient, careful, and he’d learn her secrets. Maybe through someone she cared for…like her aunt or uncle or her brother. Now it was imperative that he consult with Brynmor about the unusual situation. His old teacher might know more about these things and might have some answers for him. He might know what he should do next. He had to find him.

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Chapter Thirteen Cassandra Cassandra was so upset after she kicked Rayner out of the car she couldn’t stop shaking and she couldn’t go upstairs to bed as if nothing had happened. Heaven knew the night, before Rayner, had been trying enough. Confrontation with Rayner had just been the last whack on the head. After her problems at the Red Carpet the week before, she’d wanted to quit singing entirely. Those human-faced beasts terrified her, made her doubt her sanity and her safety, but she and Johnny needed their jobs, needed money, so she’d come up with another plan to keep the beasts at a distance. She’d discovered they despised any sort of song that praised God or spoke of Him. If every few songs they sang an old gospel or spiritual bluegrass favorite, the fake humans simply got up and left. It worked like a charm, or a prayer. But now she had a bigger problem. Rayner had admitted he was a demon. So the excuses she’d used to fool herself into thinking her problem with him was in her imagination dissolved into the air. It was true. Rayner and the human-faced beasts she’d been seeing were demons. They were everywhere and they weren’t just her problem, but mankind’s, too. She needed to confide in someone who could help her work out what she should do next. Her life, as she’d known it—going along day-to-day, playing at the Red Carpet, and only being concerned with her own little cozy world—had changed. She couldn’t deny that any longer either.

Page 167 She wanted to speak to Father Manasseh. If he were the messenger from God her aunt believed he was, he would help her. And if he weren’t, as a priest, he’d still help her. God’s messenger or not, he had a healing way about him. He’d listened to her, made her feel safe, and acted as if he almost knew what she was feeling. After parking the car in the lot across from Holy Family, she walked to the front doors. There was a light above the entrance, a soft circle of welcoming radiance. It was after one A.M. The doors were locked. Her eyes searched the darkness around the church, the neighboring buildings, and the parking lot behind her. Her heart beat faster. There was something out there. Were there demons in the darkness waiting? She sat on the top step in the light’s protection and dropped her face into her hands. Tears made a path down her cheeks. Her mind reeled with what she’d learned. She hated being such a coward. Crying wouldn’t help anything. What was she going to do now? Rayner lived next door. Demons lived among them and they were growing in numbers. Getting braver. Something was about to happen. Something big. Soon. She prayed for guidance, then felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up. “Father Manasseh, you’re here.” “I heard your prayer.” Beyond being surprised at anything anymore, she didn’t ask him how. “I need someone to talk to.” She swiped tears from her cheeks. “Then talk.” This time he wasn’t dressed as a priest, but in blue jeans and a white knit pullover. A faint aura of light pulsed around him. His calm demeanor made her feel she could tell him anything and he’d pay attention, give her counsel. Settling next to her, he took her hands in his. “Cassandra,

Page 168 I know why you’re here and I will tell you this: do not doubt what you’re seeing. He,” Father Manasseh tilted his head upwards, “opened your eyes to the evil around you. It is His will.” “Are you really a priest?” His spontaneous melodious laugh—so different from Rayner’s—made her smile. His soft touch soothed her. “I’m in God’s service and that’s all you need to know for now. I thought seeing me as a priest would be easier for you to accept. I wanted you to trust me. “You know what I am.” “What my aunt says you are?” “Your aunt is a believer. From the beginning she saw with true eyes.” Angels. Her aunt, an expert on the celestial world, had told her as a child, “You know, Cassie, there are nine levels in the hierarchy of angels—angels, Archangels, Principalities, Powers, Virtues, Dominions, Thrones, Cherubims, and Seraphims.” “Are you an angel?” His eyes were full of such gentle sorrow. “I am whatever you believe I am.” She’d been holding her breath, now she released it. The night whispered and shadows flickered. Truth was, she didn’t know what to believe anymore. Perhaps she was off her rocker; everything she saw was an illusion and what she actually needed was a fistful of little blue pills or something. Or a super-duper shock treatment. “Is your name really Father Manasseh?” “You can call me that if you like.” Oh, whatever he was, he was so exasperating. “Why are you concerned about my aunt and me?” “I’ve been sent to watch over both of you. All of you. I have been with you since the day you were born. Along with others. I guard over many of you.” “Of us?”

Page 169 “Mortals.” “Why?” Manasseh let go of her hands. She read nothing from his placid face. “You shouldn’t know yet. It would put you in grave danger.” “So these are the end times?” Her mind spun in circles, trying to make sense of the way she was feeling. More afraid than she’d even been. It couldn’t be true. Yet he hadn’t denied it. “Only God knows the answer to that.” Her eyes couldn’t leave his face. His mannerisms were antiquated. He spoke in riddles. Was she talking to an angel— or was he just a cleverer one, in camouflage, of those other kind? Was she being tricked? Angels had wings. “Where are your wings?” She thought he was going to smile, but he didn’t. “I don’t let humans see them often, if ever. It’s not allowed, except under very special circumstances.” Darn. “What’s my destiny?” “You’re one of God’s warriors,” he stated simply. “What do they do?” “Before the Rapture, they’ll prepare. Learn of their powers and their destinies. Become aware of the enemies around them. Learn to fight and fight if they have to. After the Rapture, they’ll convert those left behind, those unsure of their faith, into believers…and will protect them through the time of tribulation until the Second Coming of the Son of God. They’ll fight the battles for the remaining souls.” “You mean I’m supposed to fight…what…the enemies of the Lord? Minions from hell? The things I’ve been seeing?” He said nothing. She moaned. “You’re not going to tell me anything more, are you?” “It’s too soon.” She looked away. “I don’t believe this! Not any of it. I’m no

Page 170 preacher. I’m no warrior. I can’t fight or use a gun or a sword. And I’m supposed to kill demons and convert unbelievers?” She had a startling mental image of herself decked out in leather armor and various weapons—mostly sharp blades and automatic guns—hanging all over her body…like Buffy the Vampire Slayer or that woman from the Underworld films. It made her laugh out loud. “I’m not sure I could hurt or kill anyone—or anything. Why would God ask this of me? I’m a nobody. Just a woman who sings in bars with her brother. It’s absurd.” “When the time comes, you will do what you must, Cassandra. Trust me. God knows what He’s doing. His warriors are born to fight. You already have some of your abilities.” “Seeing death, ghosts, and horrid-looking monsters? Will werewolves and ten foot spiders come next?” He corrected her. “There are only demons.” “Oh, whoopee…only demons. Why me?” “Why not you? Do you question God?” “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m only trying to make sense of everything. I’m still not sure I’m sane. My head’s dizzy with all of this.” Something occurred to her. “Wait a minute…if I am one of these warriors, does that mean I won’t go to heaven in the Rapture?” Not that she’d expected to. She wasn’t as good a Christian as she could have been. She wasn’t totally selfless and as giving as her aunt and uncle, didn’t go to church three times a week and sometimes even skipped Sunday mass. She sang in bars and cursed when she was irritated; had bad thoughts about people she didn’t like. She used to drink. Had sex without marriage. When Johnny got under her skin she sometimes wanted to slap him. “It’s not that you won’t be worthy, but that God has other plans for his warriors.” “I know. I know. They must stay behind and fight, right?”

Page 171 “Right.” She was exhausted. It was too much to absorb in too brief a time. This is a dream, she thought, or a nightmare. Surely, she was at home sleeping in her bed. “This is not a dream and it’s late. You’re tired. Go home, Cassandra. More will be shown to you, as you need to know. For now, be at peace. Do not fear Rayner or any demon; though be sentient that he and his brethren will hunt you out. The dark is forever drawn to the light. You’re not invincible. And if your enemies can’t get to you, they’ll try to hurt the ones you love and care for. So sit not on the sidelines any longer… but seek out the many others like yourself and fight.” “Fight now? Like tonight or tomorrow? How will I do—” But as the words fell from her lips, Father Manasseh was gone. She’d blinked and there was no one beside her. She was alone. She thought she heard someone whisper: Fear not. Though it could have been a trick of her mind. “Damn,” she grumbled, frustrated. Standing up, her eyes searched the wet gloom between her and her car. The words fear not still hung in the air, but were swept away by the rain as it roared in harsh and cold. Yeah, fear not. That was easy for her imaginary friend to say. He could appear and disappear like Casper the Friendly Ghost. While she was still here. Solid. In the line of fire. Dashing for her car, she jumped in and drove home partially in a trance. She couldn’t stop brooding on what Manasseh had told her. If the whole situation weren’t so preposterous, she would have laughed. She was to be someone who would fight on the side of good and wage war against evil…in this case, fiends from hell…Rapture was coming and the world was going to end…demons were behind all supernatural beings…beings she’d irrevocably believed were myths until a short time ago. W hew. At home she couldn’t sleep. She ached to telephone Johnny

Page 172 and Sarah and tell them everything, but it was the middle of the night. Morning would be soon enough. It couldn’t hurt to allow them peace of mind a little longer. It was bad enough her world had shattered all to hell. Perched on her sofa, she drank hot cocoa as the rain beat on the roof. Part of her was amazed she was to play a role in the final days, had met an angel; part of her despairing. Her life was going to change in ways too great to imagine. It overwhelmed her. Beyond her window, the night lived. Creatures, both good and evil, went about their business. The cup she held warmed her hands, but her heart was frigid with what was to come. Was Rayner out there watching her? He could be. Other demons could be as well. What would she do if evil targeted her? But that had already happened when she’d been camping out in the woods. Luckily, she’d escaped unharmed. It made sense now. Why the lightning strike hadn’t electrocuted her and why the human-faced beasts hadn’t been able to hurt her. Yet anyway. You’re not invincible. The rain fell. It took a while to find sleep. Lying in bed, she hoped she’d wake up the next morning and would have forgotten everything that’d been revealed to her. She didn’t want to be a warrior. She didn’t want the world to end. A normal life in a normal world was what she wanted. And now, unless she’d imagined the last few weeks and the strange man in the church, that would never happen. Either way, nothing would ever be the same again.

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Chapter Fourteen Cassandra She woke at dawn and put off phoning Johnny and Sarah. Let them have a few more hours of sleep and innocence before she scared them with talk of demons and danger. She got dressed and drove to the neighborhood bakery instead. She had a hunger to taste and enjoy what the world had to offer while it was still there to partake of. Soon there might not be bakeries to buy jelly donuts from; there might not be a lot of luxuries they had now. Or at least that was what a tiny voice in her head kept telling her. In reality, she still didn’t believe the world was coming to an end. She couldn’t believe it. But just in case. The bakery, Our House Coffee & Pastries, wasn’t only a bakery it was a gathering place for the locals to sit and sip cappuccino, munch donuts, and spread gossip from six in the morning to three in the afternoon five days a week. Cassandra was there when the doors opened. She watched the owner, a middle-aged woman who’d run the shop for six years, through the glass before she walked in. There were people behind her already. “Good morning, Debbie.” “Morning, Cassandra. Haven’t seen you in here for awhile.” “Been busy. But this morning the best donuts for miles around were calling me. Hey, you’ve redecorated. I like what you’ve done to the place.” The walls had been painted a sunny yellow and the worn booths had been replaced with smaller, trendier tables and wire-backed chairs. It was a tiny place,

Page 174 but with the tall windows on all sides it made the bakery seem bigger. “Thanks. Michael and I did the work ourselves.” Michael was her husband. “It lets us seat more people. What can I get you?” Cassandra ordered the donuts her family liked. With everything on her mind it was hard to make amiable banter as she waited at the counter. She wanted so badly to blurt out: Debbie, I must tell you that the world as we know it could be ending soon and there are demons in human camouflage everywhere preparing to feast on us. You better get ready. Get that Bible out and, while you’re at it… better learn how to use a gun and wield an axe. Stock up on holy water and salt, too. You’re gonna need them. But she said nothing. She had her sack of pastries and was leaving when something made her stop. Why was she in such a hurry? There were a few people sitting at the tables drinking coffee and nibbling on crullers. Living in the moment and taking pleasure in it. Take advantage of this moment. There might not be many more like it. She looked back at Debbie. “Oh, what the heck. Give me a cup of that mocha coffee, please. I think I’m going to take a little time and drink it here; eat one of my donuts.” Cassandra seated herself at a table in front of the window. Two teenagers in stained Burger King uniforms, probably getting ready to go on their shifts, were gulping down sodas and cream donuts beside her. “Jed,” one of them said to the other, “get a load of that sky. You ever seen such a color?” “Wow, awesome all right. Scary.” The other boy scratched his shaved head as the rest of the customers glanced at the skies on the other side of the glass. Cassandra looked. When she’d driven over it’d been dark, but now the sun brightened the earth and she could see the thick layers of clouds. The sky was a putrid shade of green.

Page 175 “If I were you people,” an elderly woman with a long braid and a tiny face and body piped up from the corner, “I’d get myselves home or to a safe place like a basement. “That’s a cyclone sky. I should know. I’ve seen a few. Never seen one this threatening, though. It’s going be a bad one. I’m gone.” She grabbed her purse and half of a donut and scurried out the door. “Bye, Debbie. Close up shop. Go home, too. Something’s coming.” The five others in the shop lost no time in leaving. Outside, the winds picked up. Trashcans and tree limbs flew by the windows. There was a shrill whining steadily getting louder. Cassandra sat there, the last one, and drank her cup of coffee as she studied the sky. It was an unusual shade and the winds were awfully strong. She’d heard them blustering around the building when the door had opened to let the others out. Watching the world go by outside, all she could feel was lethargic. Her body was too heavy to move; her mind too full of other horrors to react to this new one. So what if there was a tornado coming. It was just another storm. They’d had so many of them that summer. The trees dipped and swayed. An empty cardboard box, tumbling faster and faster, bounced down the street. “Are you going to take Viola’s advice and scamper to a safer place?” Debbie asked from behind the counter. “She’s as old as the hills, but she’s seen enough destructive weather to recognize it, I suppose. She lived through that awful tornado, the one that leveled Dallas a year ago. That’s when she moved here.” “Are you going to scamper to a safer place?” “There’s a basement under this shop if I need it. By the time I’d get home it’ll have hit. I live on the east side down by the brewery. I’ll tough it out here. Protect the donuts, you know.” “That’s admirable. They’re worth protecting.” Her eyes were on the swirling clouds that had settled around them.

Page 176 It was as if the shop had been dropped into a huge wad of army-green cotton. The storm howled. The sky higher up was black. Night had returned uninvited. “You should stay here, too, Cassandra,” Debbie offered. “It’d be safer. This is the worst I’ve ever seen that sky, which is saying something since we’ve had so much bad weather lately. You want another cup of coffee?” “Sure.” She got up and stood before the counter. Her cup was refilling when she heard the freight train. Only there were no railroad tracks anywhere nearby. Call it a premonition or an impulsive terror, but she had to leave. Immediately. “Good-bye, Debbie. I have to get home. If there’s a twister coming, my aunt and uncle are alone. They’re old.” Probably still asleep. “They won’t know what to do.” She grabbed the white bakery bag, her purse, and was out the door before Debbie could get another word out. The drive home was short, but wild. The train followed behind her the whole way. Now that she knew what she knew, she questioned if the forces of darkness were affecting the weather. But surely that was God’s domain? The priest had told her to fear not. She was protected…but then, did that mean her loved ones weren’t? She had to get home. The car skidded, flying debris crashing against its fenders as she fought to keep the wheels on the road. She couldn’t believe she’d driven the same route not less than an hour before and it’d been windless. This time she could have been Dorothy in Kansas at the beginning of The Wizard of Oz. It wouldn’t surprise her if a house flew by. She screeched into the driveway. Running up to her uncle’s door, a peek over her shoulder showed the tornado bearing down on her. Outlined in an eerie glow the gigantic cyclone crowded out the sky. She let herself in. Her uncle was in the bedroom getting her aunt, who was

Page 177 crying like a frightened child, into a robe. “Cassie,” he yelled over the noise, “what the heck is going on out there?” “Tornado! Big one,” she shouted back. “Let’s get in the basement. Quickly.” They retreated to the lower floor as the electricity blinked out. In the dark, they made their way down the last steps and underground. “Got an emergency flashlight here behind the steps somewhere,” her uncle said loudly. “Got it!” In its light they found a couple folding chairs, sat, and listened as the world above them roared; the winds screamed. She held her trembling aunt tightly as the train ran over them. They stayed in the basement until the noise died down, then ventured upstairs. The house was still there. Intact. Inside anyway. Cassandra checked outside. A back yard tree had been uprooted. The yard, front and rear, was littered in branches and trash and so was the park across the street. A broken gutter hung to the ground from the roof. The neighbors had fared about the same—minimal damage that called for lots of clean up. Her car was untouched. The tornado was gone. The dark chartreuse sky wasn’t. The winds had died down although the aberrant silence was nearly as forbidding. The danger hadn’t entirely passed. “We were lucky,” she said after she returned inside. “We’re here and so is the house.” “Ellie,” her uncle pleaded, “please say something. Ellie, what’s wrong?” Refusing to speak, her aunt had ceased crying, but now was a statue sitting in a chair. Her face drained white. Her eyes closed. It was as if she were seeing, hearing, something they couldn’t. “Better telephone your brother,” Uncle George said to Cassandra, “and see if he’s okay.” Cassandra picked up the phone, dialed, but eventually

Page 178 hung up. “No luck. Phone lines are dead. It figures.” They were drinking milk, eating donuts, and waiting for the electricity to come back on when Johnny drove up. Cassandra let him in. “What’s wrong? You’re wet and dirty. Your clothes are torn. Did you get caught outside in the storm?” “Hi, Sis. You might say that.” Her brother’s expression was forlorn. He turned to her uncle and aunt. “Uncle George, Aunt Ellie, you got room here somewhere for a homeless man?” He gave them an impish grin as he cradled his right arm, its sleeve soaked in blood, close to his body. Cassandra threw her arms around him. “Oh, Johnny, what happened to you? You’re hurt!” “The apartment’s gone. Tornado flattened it. Almost flattened me.” He chuckled. “I was praying you guys were okay. I couldn’t call or nothing. Thank God you’re all right.” “Were you inside when it hit?” “Yeah, kinda. I was sleeping and the racket woke me up. I looked out the window and saw this huge spinning funnel touch down a house away. It smashed that house and hit mine next. When I heard the roof being torn off, I jumped out the window. That’s how I got hurt. I must have landed on something sharp.” “You jumped out of your apartment window?” Cassandra saw the pain in her brother’s face. He was hurting. “You’re on the second floor.” “Tell me about it.” “Son, why didn’t you go to the hospital?” Her uncle wanted to know. She and Johnny exchanged a resigned look. Remembering what they’d soon be facing and how trivial it seemed to keep secrets from each other any longer, she explained, “Because he doesn’t have any medical insurance. And, as you know, he’s afraid of emergency rooms and hospitals.” Uncle George did know. After the fire, it’d been him and

Page 179 Ellie that had sat those long days with the heartbroken boy in the hospital until he was well enough to come home with them. But all Uncle George said was, “You need that tended to, John. It looks bad.” Cassandra peeled the cloth away from the skin. Her brother’s arm was hamburger. She could see bone beneath the sliced flesh. “Johnny, this is a serious wound. Insurance or not, afraid or not, we should take you to the hospital right away. It’s a marvel you’re walking around. “Doesn’t it hurt?” She reached for her purse and put her hand on her brother’s good arm. She hated leaving the old folks, but Johnny’s arm had to be cared for by a doctor. Her brother refused to budge when she pulled on him. “Sis,” he whispered under his breath, “can’t you touch it, lay your hands on it, and make it well? Like you did the last time?” “I can’t be sure it’ll work,” she whispered back. “Can you just try first?” Ellie had stopped plucking at her robe, muttering to herself, and was observing them closely. Her Uncle George was staring at them, too. Waiting. She hoped his ears weren’t working too well that morning. No such luck. “What are you two whispering about?” Her uncle asked Johnny. “Cassie can heal me,” Johnny stated. “She’s done it before. After that bar fight at the Red Carpet she touched a cut on my forehead—and it disappeared. “Cassie, it’s time they know what you can do.” But the looks on her uncle and aunt’s faces unsettled her. “No.” She denied it at first. Then thought, now…what does it matter? If it helped Johnny she had to try. “Okay, I’ll try to heal it,” she gave in with a groan. “Sit down, Johnny, before you faint.” She helped him get out of the shirt. His arm was a bloody mess. How was she supposed to heal that?

Page 180 He winced, his face blanching with pain, as she gently put her fingers over the injury. Saying, “Please, God, heal this wound,” she met her aunt’s encouraging gaze. The old woman grinned as if what Cassandra was doing wasn’t strange at all. A gentle light circled her hand on Johnny’s arm and within seconds her brother was smiling. When her fingers moved away, the maimed arm was mended. “It worked!” he cried softly. “My arm is okay. The pain’s gone. It’s healed. Look.” He moved the arm around and the pain had left his face. Everyone stared. Her uncle rubbed the healthy skin on his nephew’s arm under the dried blood stains. “If I wouldn’t have seen it with my own eyes I wouldn’t have believed it. Cassie, you really healed him.” “God healed him. I’m surprised as any of you. It’s the first time I’ve purposely tried to mend someone.” It thrilled and frightened her at the same time to think the abilities she possessed could be used for good and not just something to torment her. “She’s been touched by God, George.” Aunt Ellie was her old self, her eyes clear and her voice steady. “Chosen. I’ve seen God’s light around her growing stronger and stronger every year. Father Manasseh says she has these gifts for a reason.” Should she tell her aunt and uncle the rest of it…about the demons? Rapture coming? Time was running short and she had to begin somewhere. Why not with the people who loved her the most? They should know what was coming so they could prepare—and she’d need their help. So she sat down and told them everything. Demons. Seeing death before it came. What the enigmatic priest had shown her. “Father Manasseh’s an angel, you know.” Her aunt smiled as if she’d just thought of it. “Who’s an angel? You saw an angel?” Johnny asked Cassandra, his eyes round as an owl’s.

Page 181 Cassandra slouched in her chair. Exhausted. The flashlights and candles they’d been using in the dimness of the kitchen had made her revelations spookier than they might have been. It made her fear the end was already coming. “I don’t know if he is or not. I don’t know what to believe anymore. I’ll reserve my judgment until I’m sure.” “Sure he isn’t just some nut case and has you both hoodwinked?” Johnny asked. She thought he was still fighting the truth. “He is an angel.” Ellie gave Johnny a sharp look. Then huffed to her husband, “I told you so, George. See, I wasn’t lying.” “Well, I don’t know if the Father is an angel or not,” Cassandra commented. “But he knew things he shouldn’t and he has this weird affect on me. Just talking to him makes me feel better.” “See,” her aunt grumbled. “That’s what angels do. Make you feel better. Ha, I’m not nuts all the time, either.” Cassandra hugged her aunt. “We know you’re not nuts. We love you no matter how you behave or what you say you see. If you think you’ve been talking to an angel, we believe you.” She threw a warning glare at the other two in the room as if to say, let’s not upset her any more than we have to. When Ellie was a girl she’d also wanted to be a nun, but at fourteen she’d met George. Their love was stronger than her desire to take the vows so she married him. But Ellie had devoted her life to God in other ways. A faithful churchgoer, she helped the nuns and priests run their parish in any way they asked of her. She visited the sick, took food to the elderly or made cakes and pies for the bake sales. Until she’d become sick, she’d been an essential part of her church, involved with everyone and everything. She knew her Bible through and through as well as Revelations’ prophecies. She was Cassandra’s religious expert with George a close second. “Auntie, I’m going to need your help. Can I come to you for advice if I need to?” If she made her aunt feel necessary

Page 182 perhaps she’d stay in her right mind longer. It was worth a try. “You better. I’m going to reread the prophecies for the end days right away. You’ll be able to ask me anything and I’ll have the answers. I won’t let you down.” The old woman’s expression was apprehensive. “As long as I can remain myself, that is,” she muttered. Her eyes clouded and she became silent. “You’ll be fine.” She felt sorry for her aunt. The woman was just sick enough to recognize she was heading into an emptiness that would someday claim all her memories and mind. In her lucid moments, that knowledge had to hurt. Johnny, who’d been examining his arm like a child given a shiny present, whispered, “Cassie, try to cure Aunt Ellie, too. Go ahead.” The look her uncle sent her was heartbreaking. They all wanted Ellie to be well. They loved her, but her uncle carried the heaviest burden. “I can try,” she said hesitantly, though she had the sinking feeling that it wouldn’t do any good. It’d be too easy. God wasn’t into easy. She laid hands on both sides of her aunt’s face and prayed to God to cure the Alzheimer’s. Her uncle and her brother’s eyes, full of hope, were on her. “Both of you pray, too.” When she was finished, she was unsure. Ellie looked the same. Nothing was different. “There, I tried. Now we’ll see. It’s in God’s hands.” “How will we know if she’s been healed, Cassie?” Johnny asked. “Time will tell,” her uncle spoke for her. “His will be done whatever the outcome.” He kissed Ellie’s lips. “I’ll love you no matter which way it goes, old sweetheart. Forever and always, remember?” They smiled at each other; she wept as he gathered her into his arms. “Well,” her uncle addressed Cassandra, “this has been quite a morning all and all. A tornado. Johnny homeless and

Page 183 healed. And Ellie…we can only pray. Finding out that our niece is being called by God to help herald in the Rapture and the end times. “I knew something was going on in the world, but I still can’t believe it’s that. Even though I said all the time that we’re in the end days, I didn’t actually believe it.” He met Cassandra’s gaze. “What will happen now, Cassie? Did that priest tell you how much time we have before the Rapture? Before everything starts?” “It’s already begun. He didn’t know the date when the Rapture will come. He said only God knows that. Besides, what he did tell me was enough to put me in shock. I’m still processing it all.” The one thing she hadn’t told them was what Rayner was. It would only scare them, Rayner living next door, and they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. She’d keep that secret for now. “I’ll see Father Manasseh again, I hope. Maybe he’ll have more he can tell me.” The electricity snapped back on. They cheered. It relieved her to have the modern comforts returned. One day, if what she’d been told were true, she’d have to face their absence. All of a sudden, electricity, television, and running water were so precious. First thing she did was brew a pot of coffee and bask in the warm lights of the kitchen. Johnny gobbled donuts and gulped fresh hot coffee. Discovering the phones were on as well, she telephoned Sarah. There was no answer. The automated phone lady said the number was out of service, but gave no reason or alternate number. “The storm must have brought her telephone lines down.” She hung up. Outside, the olive sky worried her. Everything was dead silent again. As if the planet was holding its breath and the storm wasn’t over yet. “I’m driving to her place to make sure she’s okay.” “I’ll go with you.” Johnny stood up. They were on their way out the door when Sarah’s car,

Page 184 dented and covered with mud and twigs, rattled into the driveway. Dressed in stained, wet pajamas under a robe, Sarah didn’t look much better. Her expression was stunned, her eyes fighting tears. Cassandra hurried over to her friend. “What happened?” “I got caught in that tornado, that’s what.” She gave Cassandra a flimsy smile. “Scared the feathers out of me, but I’m not hurt or anything. So get that look of panic off your face. I’m all right, physically anyway. Now my house, that’s another story. Got any coffee? I sure could use some. And I’ll tell you about it.” Arm around Sarah’s drooping shoulders, Cassandra escorted her inside. She placed a cup of coffee in front of her. The girl was shaking. Her hands dirty and scratched. “Drink it. There are donuts, too. Help yourself. What about your house?” It struck her that her earlier plan of getting them together to tell them what was going on had been achieved in an odd fashion, but achieved nonetheless. The people she loved the best in the world were there in that room with her. Something or somebody was telling her something. “Coffee and glazed donuts. Yep, that’ll make everything okay, all right.” Sarah helped herself to a donut. “My house? The tornado took it. I mean, it’s gone. I watched it go up into the air and whiz away into the stratosphere, leaving me cowering behind a bearing wall. There’s not much left. Furniture and most of my personal items flew off, too. What I have left is what you see in front of you. Me, my pajamas and robe, my purse, and my car. Even my tarot cards, the handpainted ones my friend sent me from New Orleans, are gone. They were in the house.” Sarah had a tiny house on Ninth Street that she’d worked hard, read a lot of palms, to pay for. She’d remodeled it from condemned structure to a comfortable home. She’d loved that house. “Oh, no, Sarah, I’m so sorry.” She knew Sarah was hiding

Page 185 her grief at losing her home. Couldn’t fool her, though. She must be devastated. “Thanks, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve lost everything.” Sarah wiped her face with dirty trembling hands. “Now you and Johnny are both homeless,” Cassandra said. Thing was, Sarah had owned her house while Johnny had only rented. It was a big difference. Cassandra felt awful for her and couldn’t do enough to make her comfortable. She got her more coffee. Waited on her. Was this how it would be from now on? Their lives full of bad happenings? If what was foretold to come really came to pass this would be only the beginning. She could barely stand to think about it. “Johnny’s homeless, too?” Sarah sent her gaze in his direction. He bobbed his head in the affirmative and repeated his story. “Oh,” Sarah voiced numbly when he was done. “And you’re moving back here?” She turned to Cassandra. “I was going to ask if I could stay with you, Cassie. Guess you don’t have room for two, huh?” “I’ll make room. You can stay with me upstairs,” she said without hesitation. “I have an extra room and a couch. No one’s going to be homeless.” “John can stay with us,” her uncle spoke up. “We have that spare room down here. John, you’ll need clothing. There’s a box or two of your old clothes in the basement. Good thing you’re still as thin as a baseball bat. They’ll do you for now.” “So that’s settled.” Cassandra was standing. Her aunt had fallen asleep in her chair. George motioned for her to move out of the way so he could take his wife to bed. Johnny got up and helped him. When the three left the room, Cassandra turned to Sarah. “We have to talk. I know it might be a bad time, but there’s no time to waste. I have news that’s going to knock your shoes off. Your cards were right. I’m sorry I ever doubted them or

Page 186 you. Something big is coming. The biggest.” “What are you going on about?” “I want you to listen to what I have to say until I’m finished then you can jabber or ask questions. I’ve explained this once already this morning. I only learned about it myself last night.” Sarah nodded her head then sat quietly and listened. This time, Cassandra told her everything—her visits with the priest and what he’d said, healing Johnny’s arm and trying to heal Ellie—including Rayner, what he was and how he’d reacted to her necklace. When she was done she was surprised to see tears in her friend’s eyes. “I knew it! I knew something big was coming! And, oh my God, this is the biggest. Thank goodness I gave you that blessed cross when I did. Heaven knows what would have happened if you wouldn’t have had it.” Perhaps nothing, Cassandra thought. She might have been safe anyway, but she didn’t say that to her friend. “Maybe you should have kept it. It might have saved your house.” “It wasn’t meant for me.” Sarah looked out the window, a frown on her lips. “I knew what was coming was important. Knew it was going to be horrific, Cassie. But, to be absolutely real with you, I never truly believed it would be the end of everything. No matter what I said. I kinda hoped the warning had been meant for what’s already happened to us today. Now you tell me this. Lordy, I wish I had my cards. See what they say now.” “Most likely things you wouldn’t want to hear what they had to say. You believe me, don’t you? I know it’s hard to swallow.” “Oh, I believe you. It was wishful thinking that the tornado was the main event. The cards have been hinting at something apocalyptic for a very long time. I should have known better. I—” She stopped talking. Cassandra could see the fear in her friend’s eyes. It disturbed her because all their lives Sarah had been the fearless one.

Page 187 The one who would take any dare or try anything once. The one who had stood up to the bullies in the school yard. The first one to look in a dark corner. While Cassandra had been the cautious one. The one who held back and waited…except during the fire. “I know. I can hardly believe it myself. It’s like a nightmare, isn’t it, that won’t end? But there’s a reason you’re here. Johnny, too. I was praying to be shown what to do next and here you two are. The next step on the path. Whatever’s going to happen we’re supposed to be close and give each other strength.” “Thanks for saying that, Cassie. And we will stick together and give each other strength. Hah, now I’m thinking, in the scheme of things what’s an apartment or one little house? This could be it. The end of life as we know it.” Sarah then added, “Think of the miracles we’re going to witness.” “And the horrors.” “That, too.” Sarah drank more of her coffee, her eyes numbly taking in the kitchen around them as if she were seeing it for the first time. Her face was dirt smudged and her eyes looked through Cassandra. “I can’t believe my home is gone. I’m moving in with you. At least there’s nothing to move in. I have nothing,” Sarah’s voice choked. Tears glistened on her cheeks. “You have all we have. You’re not alone. You have us. We’ll be your family.” “Thanks, Cassie. I couldn’t have a better friend.” “Johnny and I think of you as our sister. Our home is your home always.” “Well, what do we do now, Sister?” “I’d hoped you wouldn’t ask me that. I’m not sure. Father Manasseh says I’ll know what to do when the time comes. My bet is that circumstances, like the experiences I’ve been having lately, will point the way. Look, first step’s been taken. Contact. Assembling of the troops. Disclosure and

Page 188 acceptance.” She smiled to hide her uncertainty. “Sort of. “All I know is that I’m afraid.” Sarah’s eyes shone. “Don’t be. Do you know how remarkable the next years are going to be? We’re going to live through and see things most humans never have. We’re going to witness miracles. We may even be part of the final battles.” “Yeah, remarkable. We’ll get to live through virulent plagues, natural disasters like we’ve never seen and worldwide upheaval—if we make it that far.” “And the Rapture will come. Will any of us go then, do you think?” “I don’t know. Father Manasseh says I, and people like me, won’t. I have another destiny.” “Fighting for good…for God?” “So he said. It’s funny, I can’t think of myself as a warrior. Not at all.” “Oh, Cassie, it makes sense to me. You could be. You’ve always had the heart of one. You’re strong, stronger than you know. A survivor. I’ve seen that since the day you pulled Johnny out of that burning house. You saved both your lives. There was a reason you two lived when the others of your family died. Now we know why. “What will my part in all of this be?” Cassandra’s face turned from the window, where she’d been watching the trees swaying in the wind, to look at Sarah. “I think to believe and help other believers. Oh, what if you go in the Rapture? Not that I wouldn’t be happy, but I need you. I would miss you so.” “That would be something. Being taken like that, I mean. But I don’t think I’ll be going then. Reading tarot cards and palms pretty much makes me exempt, a real Christian would say. I rarely go to church, though I do believe in God and Jesus Christ. I imagine I’m going to have to work for my final salvation. “Besides, if you’re not going then, Cassie, I’m not going, either. I want to stay with you and fight. You’ll need me to

Page 189 watch your back. We’re in this together until the end.” “You’re a true friend, Sarah.” Cassandra’s eyes had tears in them. “Sisters, remember?” Cassandra put her arms out and they embraced. “Now, you might want to come upstairs with me so we can settle you in. If you feel up to it, you can have a hot bath and clean clothes. I’ve got clothes I used to wear before I lost weight three years ago. I believe some of them will fit you. Good thing I hung on to them.” “You pack rat, you hang on to everything. I’d love to have a bath. I’m a mud ball. I can’t sleep on your clean sheets like this. First, though, I need to put in a call to my insurance agent. The house was covered, and regardless of what’s going to happen in the future, we’re going to need money. For a while, at least. We’ll have to live in this world and prepare for the next at the same time. Quite a balancing act.” “I’ve been thinking on that. About my life. My job. You’re right. For now there are bills to be paid, groceries, and prescriptions to buy. Last night I was told to seek out others like myself. Lead unbelievers to the faith. I was afraid I’d have to quit my job. Take to the road. “This morning taught me I couldn’t do that. My aunt and uncle need me. You and Johnny need me. I need all of you. I need my music. It feeds my soul almost as much as my faith. I need more time to swallow all this. To prepare. “So I’ll take a day at a time. Do what I can from here. See what happens. I suspect our existence won’t be normal for long. The exploding demon population will soon affect our lives. Affect everyone’s lives.” “Whoa, seeing devils. I can’t wait.” Sarah’s tone was slightly sarcastic. “They’re not pretty. Worse thing is, when you’re around them they fill you with despair and loathing. They make you feel…sick. I can’t describe it.” “Like I said, I can’t wait.”

Page 190 Johnny came back into the kitchen, shaking his head. “I don’t think the cure worked on Aunt Ellie, Cassie. She’s back in la-la land again. She says there are giant cockroaches under the basement waiting for dark to crawl up and eat us all. Ech.” Johnny was deathly afraid of bugs. “Well, that’s that.” She was more disappointed than she let on. “I tried.” “Could be there’s a reason,” Sarah candidly suggested, “you couldn’t heal her.” “Could be.” “Did you catch Sarah up on what’s been happening to you and what your priest said last night?” There was this mischievous glint in her brother’s eyes. Not precisely disbelief, but a good dose of cynicism. He wanted to believe, but, being a realist, he was having trouble. If he believed, he’d have to accept that the end of the world might be coming— and he obviously didn’t want to do that yet. “She told me everything.” Sarah, reviving, stuffed a piece of donut into her mouth. She was staring at the arm Johnny had hurt. “I can’t believe she healed your wound. Can I see?” Johnny let her inspect the now-healthy limb. “Amazing.” Sarah gazed up at him. “Johnny, I know it’s hard, but you better believe what your sister says. My cards have been saying the same thing for a long time. Pretty soon, you’ll believe…after the Rapture, if not sooner. Everyone will. They’ll have no choice.” “So you both say. I know Cassie can heal by touch and she can tell when someone’s going to die. The rest of it? We’ll see.” To Cassandra he said, “Sis, got a more down-to-earth question. Are we going to work tonight?” “We are if the tornado hasn’t taken the Red Carpet away. We need the money. Unless,” she looked at Sarah, “you want us to go back to your house with you to salvage anything?” “Not much to salvage. No. I don’t want you to go back there with me. I can do it later.”

Page 191 “Okay, then.” Cassandra answered her brother. “Call Morey and find out if the club is still standing.” Johnny went for the phone. She switched on the television that sat on the counter to see how much damage had been done around town. There’d been a great deal. There’d been fatalities. It’d been the worst tornado in St. Louis in decades. But clean up was underway and aid was flowing in to the victims who needed it. If she weren’t going in to work, she would have offered to help. She could go into the streets and heal peoples’ wounds. No, she couldn’t do that. It would put a spotlight on her that would be dangerous. The demons would see…they’d know what she was. Whatever that was. Might as well paint a giant florescent target on her back. Oh, but she wished she could help. What good was her new gift if she couldn’t use it? Johnny was off the phone. “Red Carpet’s in one piece, Morey says. So we work tonight. You sure you want to?” “I’m sure. Rent’s due and Ellie needs medicine again. I don’t know what to do next anyway. So I’ll keep doing what I’ve always done.” Until something happens or I get some kind of instructions. “We’ll all keep doing what we’ve been doing. For now,” Sarah seconded. “Darn, wish I had my cards.” “I don’t think you need them anymore,” Cassandra told her. “Ellie has said many times that evil can come through them. Since we’re going to have to be more cautious these days, perhaps we should stick with the Bible and Revelations to see what the future might hold—for awhile anyway?” “Never thought I’d say this, but you could be right. So, for now, no more tarot cards.” The sky outside resembled the inside of a pickle jar. It’d begun to drizzle. Upstairs, she and Sarah cleaned out the spare bedroom and she found her friend clothes to wear. The whole time, as Sarah rattled on about what they could be facing, in between crying fits over losing her house and all her possessions, and

Page 192 sometimes playing half-heartedly with Snowball, Cassandra worried quietly. She prayed quietly. Filled with doubts, she was on the edge of a precipice and she wasn’t sure when she fell if she’d soar like a bird or plummet like a rock. What exactly was she supposed to do? If she ever needed guidance, she needed it now. All she could do was go to the church and, as last time, call for help, and hope Father Manasseh would come. She’d do that as soon as Sarah was calmed down and settled in. The girl was a wreck. As she was putting a clean blanket on Sarah’s bed, the cat jumped, meowing and pouncing, in the middle of the bed to hide. Even Sarah laughed. “See, Snowball is trying to make you feel at home,” she said, grabbing the cat up into her arms and snuggling her. “If you’re lucky, she might even sleep with you some nights.” “Fine. As long as she doesn’t snore she can.” “She doesn’t snore. But she likes to play in the middle of the night.” “That’s fine, too. I sleep like the dead, so she won’t bother me.” The two women regarded each other and their laughter dwindled away. The mention of one of them and the word dead after the day they’d had was too close to the mark to be comfortable. They finished getting the room ready and spoke about pleasanter things like what to have for supper and who’d cook what. But beneath her smiling face, Cassandra was fighting off the dread that had been growing all day. What would happen next…and how would they deal with it if it were worse than the morning they’d had? She didn’t have an answer and that’s what troubled her the most. She didn’t think she was strong enough to do what she had been asked to do. She was no warrior. And she was so scared. Just thinking about it made her blood shiver and her hands tremble like an old woman’s.

Page 193 So, how was she going to fight eternal evil when the time came? She had no damn idea.

Page 194

Chapter Fifteen Cassandra As twilight fell, and before she went to work that night, she drove to the church. Afterwards, she’d swing back by the house and pick Johnny up. It was better, she’d told him, if they drove to and from work together from now on. Better if someone was always with the old folks, as well. Safer. Inside, she lit candles for her family, for guidance, and prayed for courage. She called for Father Manasseh, but he didn’t come. As if he would. What was she thinking? In the recesses of her mind, the uncertainty she’d had earlier festered. What if Manasseh wasn’t a priest or an angel as her aunt believed? What if he was a demon? Now why, she scolded herself, would she think such a thing? And had no answer for that, either. She drove home to collect her brother and go to work. The entire night at the Red Carpet was tough. She was distracted, her mind obsessed with what was happening to them, and Johnny was more withdrawn than she’d seen him since the fire. It creeped her out there were so many demons in the crowd. Then they played their set of gospel songs. The human-faced beasts cleared out like bats caught in a spotlight. Fine with her. She was sick of seeing their repulsive faces, of putting up with their stench—a putrid stink like garbage left out in the sun too long—that grew stronger each day. When she smelled it, she knew they were around and her stomach would clench. At the end of the night, there was a telephone call from

Page 195 Sarah. “Your uncle asked if you would bring home some eggs, bread, and more milk. He said we wiped out his supplies when we made supper. We’re out of the basics upstairs, too. Oh, can you also get some chocolate? You know what I like.” “Sure. We’ll stop and pick the stuff up,” Cassandra told her. “Three Musketeers, right?” “Or Milky Ways. Can you get me a couple of each?” Sarah had to have chocolate when she was upset. Stopping by an all night Quick Shop, she and Johnny bought the food. For once it wasn’t raining, but there was the ever-more-present pea fog surging in that her headlights couldn’t cut through. Just another stressor to add to her list. When they entered the store, her nerves began to tingle. “Let’s get what we need and get home, Johnny. You grab the eggs and milk and I’ll take care of the rest. Meet you at the checkout counter.” He went one way in the brightly lit store and she went another. In aisle three, as she picked out candy bars, she looked through the glass windows into the parking lot. The curdling fog and the night were hiding something, but as she squinted her eyes to see better the mist eddied and exposed paleskinned people moving around beyond the lights. They were glaring in at her. She couldn’t tell if they were clothed. Indistinct with fuzzy silhouettes, they wavered like bad reception; looked like ghosts. There was a parking lot full of them. They weren’t people. And they didn’t look happy. She grabbed what she needed and quick stepped to the register. Johnny was behind her with his arms packed. The young woman at the counter, obviously bored, scanned and bagged their groceries and went back to reading a paperback. Some horror novel with a sexy vampire on the front showing her blood dripping fangs. Fiction. Not reality. Ha. She wanted to say to the cashier, Look outside, Missy, if you want to see something scary…just look outside—or more closely at the faces of some of your night customers.

Page 196 “Thanks,” she mumbled in the clerk’s direction and shoved her brother out the exit towards the car. “What’s the hurry?” he whined, turning to look at her once the door closed behind them. “You don’t see them?” “See who?” “The creatures out in the parking lot?” “Noooo. Am I supposed to?” “Never mind.” “Here we go again,” he humphed. Behind her, glass was breaking. Oh, oh. The mob was getting restless. Someone screamed. Cassandra spun around and stared at the Quick Shop. “I’ve got to go back inside, Johnny. That girl needs to get out of there.” “Sis, you can’t do that. If the things I can’t see but you do, can break windows they can hurt you. Us. It’s not safe. We should get out of here.” She couldn’t walk away. Something inside her wouldn’t let her. “You go sit in the car and wait if you like. Lock the doors. I won’t be long. I just want to make sure she’s okay.” The specters, embedded in dark pulsating auras, were agitated and milled around outside the building. They pressed against the windows. Trying to get the guts—if they had guts—to get inside. There had to be twenty or more. She snatched up a broken limb from the ground and marched into their midst, yelling and waving it around. The stick went right through the wraithlike beings and scattered them. The cross at her neck glowed, was red hot, against her skin. The creatures were more fearful of her than the stick. The lacy vestiges of what looked like human beings with holes for eyes and decayed bits of flesh hanging from their skeleton forms stared defiantly at her from a distance, but didn’t move back. An angry hum buzzed about them. A

Page 197 couple had rocks in their hands. Ready to throw again. They looked as if they’d been caught between this world and another. There are nothing but demons, the priest had said. It was hard to believe their outward appearance was a disguise. She didn’t know what to do, didn’t react, and the creatures surged towards and encircled her. “I know what you are! Get away from here,” she stepped forward and intimidated them with the stick again, “in God’s name!” Well, it might work. She was winging it here. They hissed at her. Milled around angrily. They acted as if they wanted to rush her, but something was holding them back. She had an idea. She began to sing at the top of her voice. “I saw the light, I saw the light, no more darkness, no more night…Now I’m so happy, no sorrow in sight. Praise the Lord, I saw the light!” The banshee-looking creatures skittered away from her down the street and vanished behind a line of darkened stores until she couldn’t see them anymore. “Wow, it worked.” She stood alone in the parking lot. She should have felt proud, victorious. So why did she feel as if they’d only been taunting her? They’d left too easily. Inside, the clerk was passed out, her head bleeding, on the floor. A window was broken and large rocks lay around her. Cassandra crouched down and put her fingers on the girl’s lips. Thank God, she was alive. How was she going to handle this? The girl should go to the hospital. No telling how bad she was hurt. The bell over the shop door jingled and then Johnny was standing above her. “Are the ghouls gone?” He looked around for the apparitions he couldn’t see. “For now. They flew off down the street somewhere.” Johnny nodded at the girl on the floor. “Is she going to be

Page 198 okay?” “I don’t know.” “You going to heal her?” “I can try.” She put her hands on the girl’s head and found the long brown hair sticky with blood while her face was flour white. Cassandra whispered a simple prayer. At first, nothing happened, but then the young woman slowly came back to consciousness, sat up, her fingers rubbing the side of her head. “Ouch…something hit me. I must have fainted.” Her eyes took in the store’s damage. “The window’s broken. Boy, the boss’s going to be mad at me.” “That wasn’t your fault,” Johnny told her. “What happened?” The girl, with their support, stood and looked about with a puzzled scowl on her face. Johnny and Cassandra exchanged furtive looks. His hand hiding his mouth, Johnny whispered softly, “We can’t tell her the truth.” “I know,” Cassandra whispered back. She turned her attention to the clerk. “A bunch of teenagers throwing rocks, that’s all. They broke a window and ran off. Telephone your manager, tell him what happened; get someone to take your shift or close the store and go home for the rest of the night. You’ve had a scare.” “I can’t. No one available to come in on such short notice. My boss, Neanderthal that he is, would fire my butt for sure. I need this job. Got a kid at home.” The girl was alert now and inspecting the damage to the window and the store. Her fingers explored her head again and finding no wound, she narrowed her eyes at the blood all over herself and the floor. “Whoa, where did all this blood come from? It’s everywhere.” “Don’t know.” Johnny scratched the side of his face, trying to look confused. She shook her head and he got the message. There was no account they could give the girl that would make any sense, so why try. Pretending ignorance was all they could do.

Page 199 The clerk’s small frame shook. “You know, I think I will call the police and let the boss worry about getting someone to replace me for the rest of the night. I don’t feel so good. I need to clean up this mess before I go, though. The boss will have my job if I don’t.” She wobbled on her feet. Johnny caught her. “Go ahead, phone your boss,” Cassandra said, “and we’ll stay here with you until someone comes. We’ll help you clean the mess up.” Johnny tossed her a dirty look, but didn’t contradict her. “You don’t have to do that. It’s my problem to take care of. My job. But thanks anyway.” “We’re helping and we won’t take no for an answer. Johnny, call the police.” He picked up the phone, complaining under his breath the whole time. “I’m tired. Want to go home. But oh, no, we have to be nice people and help. Sheesh.” “You have a broom, a dustpan, and a bag or something so I can sweep the glass up?” Cassandra asked the girl. “Some rags?” “Shouldn’t we wait for the police?” “Nah, we can tell them what happened and the window will still be broken for the insurance company to see.” Get rid of the blood and get rid of the evidence, Cassandra was thinking. What she didn’t need was the police interrogating her about where all the blood came from. It’d be harder to hide the truth from them. They remained with the girl, busy sweeping up glass and wiping away blood, until the police arrived. They repeated the vandalistic teenage story and got out of there as soon as the police said they could. “Well, that was fun,” Johnny said snidely as they left the store. “Is this the way it’s going to be from now on? Aiding and saving people and all from things I can’t even see?” Behind the words, Cassandra caught a touch of smugness. Johnny liked being a hero. Imagine that.

Page 200 “I guess we’ll find that out as we go along. Remember I’m new to this, too. Be grateful you can’t see what I see. It’d scare you more than not seeing, believe me. “And if what the priest said comes to pass you, too, will one day see monsters. A fact I’m sure will thrill you to no end.” “Don’t bet on it,” he groused. “Sorry. I know you didn’t ask for this, either, Cassie. So it’s not your fault. We’re both struck in the same fun house. Now, can we go home? It’s after three. I’m ready to drop. Excitement and pushing a broom around after singing all night has worn me out and made me sooo hungry.” “What’s new? And yes we’re going home now.” “Good. Let’s swing by the All Night Café on our way and get a couple hamburgers to go. Your treat because I’m sort of out of cash again.” “I give up.” She tossed her hands into the air. “Okay, I’ll spring for burgers, but that’s all. There’s soda at home. Chips. I—we—have to watch the money. What little we have of it.” As they walked to the car, she saw the pale shadows waiting for them on the other side where it was darker. The ghouls had returned. Oh, goodie. “Get in the car. Now,” she told Johnny. “We’ve got company again.” “Who?” He looked around, flustered. “Never mind. You can’t see them remember? They can see us.” There was something that looked like a man in tattered clothing with deep gashes in his head and a bloody face, his eyes spiteful and ravenous, and he’d moved in front of her brother. The creature reached out with clawed fingers and Johnny recoiled, his hand going to his cheek where long scratches emerged. “Ow! What the hell, I’m bleeding.” She thrust herself between the two, grabbed her brother’s arm, swung him around, and pushed him into the driver’s

Page 201 side of the car. She threw herself in next to him, shoved him over, slammed the door, started the car, and burned rubber out of the parking lot. Studying the rearview mirror as she hit the highway, she saw the apparitions stumbling around in the fog, looking for them. There were so many of them. And then they were gone. Poof. Just like that. “Now your invisibles are attacking us,” Johnny snarled, slouched in the seat. She couldn’t tell if he was mad or terrified. “Not my invisibles. Believe me, they’re everybody’s. And…if I am to believe what I’ve been told, they’re demons. Different kinds than the ones I’ve been seeing in the bars. Demons all the same. I’m sorry you got scratched. I wasn’t prepared for so many of them or how vicious they’d be. Now they’re tossing rocks, breaking windows, and mauling us. What’s that about?” She shook her head sadly. “I’ve seen them before, though I thought they were ghosts, but they’ve never tried to hurt me or anyone before.” “Please, can we go home now?” Johnny pleaded. She pulled the car to the curb under a bright street light and parked it. “As soon as I take care of those scratches. We don’t want them to become infected, do we?” “We don’t.” She touched his face. When she pulled her hand away, the scratches were gone. “Thanks, Sis.” He gave her a smile. “Hey, that never gets old.” “You’re welcome. Time to go.” She looked out the window and saw gleaming eyes prowling in the murk up against the buildings. Her survival instinct urged her to flee. She put the car back in drive and sped away from the curb. Johnny was already eating a candy bar from the grocery bag beside them. He hadn’t seen a thing. When they were far enough away and she didn’t see anything following them, she relaxed. A little. There was no

Page 202 telling where the glowing eyes would turn up next. She almost drove past the restaurant, but her brother nudged her. “Hamburgers, remember? I need sustenance. And please…now after what I’ve gone through…can I have fries?” For the first time feeling safe since the whole incident begun, she laughed. “And a shake, too. You’ve earned it.” They used the drive-through and got cheeseburgers for anyone who might be awake at the house. She figured Sarah would be up. After the day she’d had she would have trouble sleeping until her friends were home. As they snuck in the house, Johnny, sucking on his shake, cracked, “You think our neighbor, Rayner the demon, is watching us now?” “Who told you Rayner was a demon?” “I overheard you and Sarah discussing him in the kitchen earlier today. Sorry. I didn’t mean to snoop. You guys were just talking too loud.” “If you say so.” She gently punched him in the shoulder. “Well?” “I can’t tell you if he’s peeping and I don’t care. As long as he stays away from us.” No lights on the lower floor, which meant her aunt and uncle were sleeping. What she’d hoped. “Come upstairs, Johnny. We’ll eat there. But be quiet. I don’t want to wake the folks.” “I’ll be quiet.” Johnny followed her up the stairs to her rooms with the bag of cheeseburgers. She carried the groceries. Sarah was waiting for them on the couch in one of Cassandra’s old robes. The television was on mute. “Up kind of late, aren’t you?” Johnny dumped the bag in her lap. “We brought home food. Hope you’re hungry.” “Some. I couldn’t sleep.” There were smudged circles around her eyes, cuts on her brown face, as her gaze swung towards Cassandra. “I keep seeing that tornado taking my

Page 203 house away. I can’t stop being jumpy. Every time the wind picks up I think the twister is coming back for me.” She got up. “Ooh, I miss my cards. I’m going to have to buy a new deck.” Cassandra flashed her a hopeless look and her friend returned it with a sheepish shrug. “I know you think the cards are a bad idea,” Sarah said, “with all that’s going on, but I have a feeling that God will forgive me if I get another deck and use them, especially if I ask Him to bless the readings. They might even help us at times. We’re going to need all the help we can get.” “They might help and you might be right about us needing all we can get,” Cassandra conceded. “If I see our elusive priest again, I’ll ask him what he thinks. Until then, I don’t see what harm a new deck would do.” Sarah acknowledged her friend’s remark with a downward motion of her head. She unpacked the burgers and fries from the bag and put them on the kitchen table, popping a fry into her mouth. “You guys are kinda late, even for you, aren’t you?” Johnny had finished his shake so Cassandra fetched three cans of soda out of the fridge. “We got delayed at the Quick Shop getting the groceries. Attack of the invisibles.” He shrugged his shoulders, making light of it. “Something attacked you?” “Yeah. We think demons.” Cassandra took over the story as they sat down to eat. “So our night was as peaceful as our day,” Johnny snapped glumly when she was finished. “Then your evening was as sucky as mine.” Sarah shook her head and bit into a cheeseburger. Cassandra was almost afraid to ask. “What happened?” “The insurance agent returned my call. He says I’m covered for the full amount. Thank goodness. But there’s been so much destructive weather this summer, a great deal

Page 204 of claims, so I might have to wait before he can get to me. Said this was the nastiest year for storm and tornadoes his company’s ever seen. “After talking to him, I drove back to where my house used to be. I thought I could salvage something. Anything. No luck. There wasn’t a spoon or a knickknack left behind. It was as if the property had been sucked clean of everything, bulldozed, and plowed under. Only thing left was dirt and lost memories that made me cry. So I came back here. I’ve been vegetating in front of the tube all night. Sniffling and praying.” “Sorry, Sarah.” Cassandra laid a hand on her friend’s shoulder. She knew what it was like to lose a home and everything in it. No words could describe it; no comforting words could ease away the loss. A person had to ingest the pain and move on. Sarah’s lips curved up. “I wallowed in self-pity until Walter phoned and after talking to him I feel better.” She had never been one to let setbacks keep her down. “It was only a house. I’m alive. All of you are alive. That’s what counts.” “Walter called here?” Cassandra fed another piece of cheeseburger to Snowball. The cat loved fast food, even French fries. She shouldn’t be giving the animal table scraps, but was worried about her lately and had been catering to her. Snowball had stopped going outside. All she did was cower in the apartment under the bed unless Cassandra was home. Then the cat just wanted to shadow her steps or hunker in her lap. She couldn’t get rid of her. “Yep. When he couldn’t reach me at home he tried my emergency back-up number. Which is yours. I’d just got off the phone with him. We talked a long time. He can cheer me up no matter what. I love that man,” she sighed. “What have you told him?” “I blabbed everything. Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. About the tornado, what the cards had predicted, what’s been going on, and what you told me this morning.”

Page 205 “All of it?” Panic flushed Cassandra’s face. She’d never asked Manasseh if she was supposed to be telling everyone yet about the world ending. There’d been little choice with Johnny, her aunt and uncle, and Sarah. They knew her and had guessed something was wrong. They’d squeezed it out of her. She hadn’t been able to hide what was affecting each and every one of them anyway. They’d become a part of it. But telling Walter was another matter altogether. She didn’t know him. “It’s okay. Walter and I don’t have secrets from each other and I wanted him to hear it from me. He’s one person I knew would believe us. Not laugh at us. He needs to know. “He’s coming, Cassie.” “You told him everything and now he’s coming here?” “Oh, there were other reasons. He’ll explain when he gets here. The stinker wouldn’t even tell me. His circus left Canada a week ago. They’ve been playing small towns up in Wisconsin.” “I thought they only played the Midwest?” “Me, too. He said business was lousy so they’d expanded the circuit. A couple of towns in Wisconsin asked for them. So they went. Something like that.” “They’re all coming this way, the whole kit and caboodle then?” Johnny yawned. He’d woofed down three burgers so fast Cassandra couldn’t believe it. She was on her first. The clock showed it was three-thirty five. Way past their bedtimes. “No, only Walter. He’s quit the circus.” She directed the next question to Cassandra. “He’s asked if he could borrow your sofa bed for a while. He has no family in St. Louis. No place else to stay. If I had a house he’d be staying there…but it’s gone. I don’t want him in a hotel. I want him with me. Please can he stay here?” Cassandra didn’t know what to say. A man she’d never actually met staying with them and now of all times? “When’s he coming?”

Page 206 “In a few days. By Wednesday, I think.” “For how long?” “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me that, either, but asked me to plead with you, says we all need to be together. It’s important.” “Sounds like your Walter is a man of mystery. No wonder you love him. You two are so alike. Well, since I’m never one to stand in the way of true love, I give in. He’s welcome here. Any friend of yours is a friend of ours.” And perhaps it was meant to be. “Thanks, Cassie. And I don’t mean just for that. I mean for taking me in. Everything.” “You’d do the same for me or any of us.” “I would.” “Then stop thanking me.” “Okay.” “Now.” Cassandra stood up. “Johnny, go downstairs. We need to get some sleep. It’s been an exhausting day and night. My bed’s calling.” “I second that.” Johnny rose from his chair, grabbed one last hamburger, and aimed himself for the door. “See ya all for breakfast. Let’s make it a late one, huh?” “Fine by me.” Cassandra bolted the door after him. Locking doors and windows was something she’d begun doing. It didn’t make her feel much safer but it’d become a habit. Cassandra and Sarah didn’t stay up long after Johnny left. They talked a few minutes, yawning often, and then went to their beds. Sarah in the guest room. Snowball cuddled up with her mistress. “Whatever else needs to be worked out can wait for morning,” she consoled Sarah before she turned the lights out. “Things will look better after a good night’s rest, they usually do.” Or so she hoped. And anything, she brooded, to put this awful day behind them.

Page 207

Chapter Sixteen Walter Walter had been a clown in the Carson Brothers Circus since he’d been a boy. His father, Carlos Garafeinni, had been a clown before him and his grandfather, Antonio, before him. People didn’t understand that it was a vocation, being a clown. It took study and practice. It was a way of life that wasn’t easy. His grandfather used to say it was a calling. He’d learned everything he knew from his father and grandfather. His grandfather, stage name Troubles with his face the facade of a sad loser, had been famous, even rivaling the late great Emmett Kelly. The world had known him. He’d toured the globe and had even had guest cameos in a handful of movies in the nineteen forties and fifties. Not many people had known that his grandfather had been more than a clown. He’d been able to see the future. He’d told Walter things he’d never unveiled to anyone else. The old man had died when Walter was eleven and he was still missed. His grandfather might have known what the world was going through now. He might have cleared up things and given him much needed answers. Oh, well. All in all, Walter had led an unusual life. His father, mother, and two brothers had perished in a car accident when he was fourteen and he’d gone to clown school courtesy of Carson Brothers. All expenses paid. He’d been given a job in the show for as long as he wanted it. So Walter, as his father and grandfather before him, became a professional clown with a fancy piece of paper to prove it and he’d been with Carson Brothers ever since. His next birthday

Page 208 he’d be thirty years old. It’d been a good life living among the eccentric carnies. They were generous big-hearted people who’d give you their last dollar if you needed it. When his parents had died, the other clowns had as good as adopted him; showed him every trick they knew. How to smile with his eyes. How to somersault and fall without hurting himself. How to make the crowd laugh and cry. How to live the life of a clown and nurture a clown’s heart. The whole circus was his family. He loved them all. There was Matthew, who ran the sideshow, ate light bulbs, lay on nails, spiked his nose, and swallowed fire; Martha the pretzel lady; Tula and the webspinners, who danced the high wires; Daisy, who was shot out of a cannon each night into a paper target; Jacob with his big cats, and Hugo with his beloved elephants. The carnies had finished raising him. They were his people and the circus was his home. All he’d ever known and he’d been happy. He shared a roomy RV with Big Nose, another clown. Then the weird occurrences, some of which his grandfather had forewarned him of so many years before, had started. At night, as he slept on his side of the camper, he heard the scratching, a thousand tiny claws, on the exterior metal. Through the windows, he glimpsed hairy beasts skulking among the trees and the other RVs. Mostly at night, in the beginning. But lately, he saw them in the morning and evening twilight. They ran, moved like men, but they weren’t. Often they melted away in front of his eyes. At first, he thought he was having vivid nightmares. He began to see them hiding among humans wherever there were crowds. They looked like people, but weren’t. He had a hunch that if he traveled into the villages, sauntered along the streets, and roamed in the shops he’d see the beasts in human form there, as well, and in the towns they were passing through.

Page 209 When he began to see other beings of pulsating light moving in the crowds, observing everyone, he thought his fantasies had evolved into certified madness. As the others, they resembled men and women, but instead of being repulsive, they were beautiful. They didn’t frighten him, but filled him with reassuring peace. He didn’t know what those monsters hiding-behindhuman disguises were; didn’t know what those beings of light were, but he wanted to. He desperately wanted to understand what was happening. Seeing things weren’t the worst of it…he had the sense that something or someone was stalking him and he asked himself if he was becoming paranoid. He was a spiritual man. As a young child he hadn’t wanted to become a clown, but devote his life to God. Join the church. Help others. After the accident stole his family, during his greatest need, he’d thought of the church again but heard voices in his head. Not now. W hen it is your time to serve He will summon you. For now…follow the path your family laid out for you. Oh, he’d been sure they were angels. But as he grew, they’d ceased whispering to him. He’d waited, but they hadn’t returned. Eventually, he came to believe they’d only been his imagination during a tragic time of his life; compassionate imaginary friends when he needed them the most. He was sure he’d never see or hear from them again. Until he began seeing the beings of light. An enormous change was taking place in the world. He could feel it and now he’d begun to see it. He didn’t know why these things were being shown to him and not to others and he didn’t know what to do about it. Until that night. Although even before the incident he’d considered leaving the circus, going on winter break early. Big Nose talked him out of it. “We have another three weeks,” Big Nose argued. “Don’t

Page 210 leave me to do the act with just Big Feet. It won’t be as funny. You’re the one who gets the most laughs. Little Troubles, you’re the one they come to see. You got the magic.” And Big Nose didn’t want him to go because he didn’t want to be alone sooner than he had to be. They were close as brothers. So Walter had stayed. Later, he’d be sorry he had. For what had happened would not leave him. The day had began as any other for the carnies. The circus had arrived in Odanah, a town in Wisconsin twenty miles south of Lake Superior, at dawn that September morning. It’d been more like a late October morning with the deep chill in the air. No warmth anywhere. The sun had been cold as they’d pulled the wagons through the creeping mists into the pasture. The big top went up in the clearing and the circus folk parked their trailers, campers, and cars beneath the sprawling trees along the creek. The cages with the tigers, lions, and bears were unloaded. The elephants were emptied from their trucks and hobbled in the shade so they could be fed and groomed for the evening show at seven. The first part of the day had been uneventful. The carnies got ready for the show and tended to the animals. They had supper together, smeared on their make-up and put on their costumes. The customers, or rubes as the carnies dubbed them, filtered in; packed the midway and bought food from the vendors. Tantalizing aromas of hot dogs, funnel cakes, and cotton candy infused the air. A normal night like so many others. The circus animals made their feral noises and the performers joked and laughed among themselves. Then Walter sensed a rising agitation in the forest and the air around them. Everywhere. For weeks, he’d seen those nearly invisible creatures with the crimson glowing eyes scurrying about, scrutinizing him and his friends wherever the circus spent the night. There were more each week. Alarmed at their increasing numbers, he’d nonchalantly

Page 211 inquired if anyone else was seeing them, and though most eyed him strangely, they told him they had not. He thought he was losing his mind, but was more afraid he wasn’t. What unnerved him most were the crowds. He’d seen many more human faces and bodies shifting into something hideous. So often he lost count. Snarling and baring their fangs, they made his skin goose bump because he knew they were evil. That evening, Walter sat in his trailer and carefully painted on his clown paint. Snow white face and large sad eyes, big red sad mouth turned down at the corners. He climbed into his costume of brightly colored patches and a funny straw hat with a flower garden tucked around the brim. Voila. Little Troubles was frowning back at him in the mirror. His RV was sparsely furnished. He and Big Nose used it mostly to sleep, or play checkers or cards in when it was raining. The remainder of time they spent outside with their friends, eating meals in the mess tent, or socially mingling. The RV legally belonged to Big Nose, but Walter had been told to think of it as his own. So he did. He wasn’t looking out the grimy windows into the dusk, but was thinking about how long he could remain with the circus, even with Big Nose begging him to stay. If he were this unstable, creep shows everywhere, he must truly need a rest or something. He somersaulted out into the main ring as he did every night along with Big Nose and Big Feet, playing skits off each other to get laughs. The throng of people clapped. Shouted and whistled. And the night began. He didn’t notice anything odd until the second half and by then it was black night beyond the tent. He jumped off a stack of wobbly boxes and dashed into the crowd to hand out balloon animals. He was presenting three little girls in the second row with twisty pink horses when he gazed up into the faces of their parents. They weren’t human. Grimacing, their eyes hatefully

Page 212 bored into his. Their mouths had razor sharp teeth. Their skin was onyx. He saw their whole form ripple from human to beast and back again. It was such a shock seeing them so clear and so close, he nearly fell off the bleacher. He was pretty sure they saw that he saw. He searched the other faces. The uglies, as he’d begun calling them, were everywhere. Too many to count and more in one place than he’d ever seen. There was this arrogance about them of eager antagonism barely leashed. They were waiting for something. Scheming something. And he didn’t think it would be a good something. That’s when the inner panic began. Something awful was going to happen and the uglies were going to be behind it. If he knew what it was…could he stop it…when he didn’t even know what they were or what they were capable of? He scrambled out of the bleachers to edge towards the exit, his eyes guiltily taking in the other performers. His friends. His family. Should he warn them? The final act of the night, after the elephants, was Jacob and his wild animals. Three ivory tigers and two tawny lions. The elephants were being led out, and Walter was out of sight behind the main ring during the performance, when a blur sprinted from the crowd—low to the ground and as swift as a cheetah. Then another and another. The blurs sped towards the tiger’s cage and a split second later there were tigers and lions everywhere…though not normal ones. Twice as big as ordinary animals, they pawed, growled, and roared; had filthy fur and lizard-eyes. Their ear-splitting ferocity shook the tent. The cage doors sprung open and animals bounded into the crowds ripping and biting and clawing. The screams of the people were bloodcurdling, but short lived. Blood splattered against the canvas of the tent as the hellish beasts feasted on human flesh and consumed every morsel. Heads, feet, bones, and all. Then there were the elephants. The circus only owned

Page 213 two, but there were eight…no…nine…rampaging through the stampeding mob. They crushed anything that got in their way beneath colossal feet; speared people with their spiked scarlet tusks…and then devoured them like tasty appetizers. Elephants? It was as if he’d stumbled onto a cast and crew making a horror film out in the woods but the special effects weren’t on green screens. Nightmares were never this real. Walter hid behind a large cage and watched as the bloodthirsty animals chased the people into the night woods. The screams were more than he could bear. He wanted to help. Wanted to do something. But there was nothing he could do. Unless…. He bent down and grabbed a piece of broken metal bar, one edge razor sharp, which had torn away from the cage. When he got his feet to work, he ran out behind the fleeing rubes, swinging at every animal he came across that was attacking a human being. His blows didn’t help much. They bounced off. But he didn’t give up. He couldn’t just stand by and watch people die. Twice, he almost became a snack himself, yet he never stopped moving, dodging, praying all the while, and somehow avoided being mangled or killed. Some kind of miracle. The carnage was over quickly, but he’d never get the grisly images of bleeding, shrieking people, some he knew and cared about, staggering through the woods with demonic animals mutilating and devouring them, out of his head. When it was over, the beasts were gone. Bodies lay inside and outside the tent and in the grass and dirt of the woods among the fallen leaves. The wounded moaned in pain and the dead were forever silent. Many were just gone, their remains nowhere to be seen. Matthew and Big Nose were two of the missing. Walter made his way through the carnage to his trailer and telephoned for ambulances, then aided his injured friends as best he could. He’d had EMT training years before, but had never treated wounds like the ones he saw that night.

Page 214 Skin was shredded from bones and hunks of flesh had been torn loose. Soon there were strobe lights and yellow crime scene tapes everywhere. There were speculations on what had taken place, but most of the survivors were in shock and could barely speak much less say what had occurred. “The tigers and lions went rabid and got loose. They went after the people. Simple. That’s what.” For the small town sheriff, Jeremy Jackson, it was an easy call. What else could have happened? He had the wounded, lifeless, and missing. He had stories of the circus animals savaging them and running off into the woods. “I’m always saying these traveling carnivals are dangerous. Too many big animals with sharp teeth. Everyone thinks it’s so safe because they’re behind bars. Ha. They get loose and— wham—what do you have? What you had here…a bloody massacre.” The cop had no rationalization for why there were only two dead elephants and a couple of lions and tigers covered in bite and claw marks. Nowhere near as many wild animals as the witnesses swore they saw chasing them. “The elephants went rabid as well?” Walter was standing over one of them, Norma, when he asked. Norma had been the sweetest creature he’d ever known. She wouldn’t have hurt anyone. The poor creature was mutilated and sliced up as if she’d had a messy autopsy. Dead as a tree stump. “Then how did the animals end up butchered like this?” A bewildered look spread across the police officer’s face. “Well, could be another animal attacked it in the confusion and clawed it up—or do you have any other ideas on the matter?” Walter might have told him about the uglies lurking in the woods and the crowds and that he thought they were behind the entire fiasco, but he didn’t think the sheriff would go for it. The man believed in statistics, guns, and computers. He wasn’t the type to believe in fanged bogeymen who could metamorphose into any vicious mammoth creature it wanted

Page 215 to be. “No. It’s probably as you think,” Walter retorted glumly and fell silent. What else could he say? These fiendish-looking beasts that hide behind human faces did it? Who’d believe him? There were so many human and animal casualties. Walter was sick with anguish. He’d lost a lot of friends. And he had guilt…he should have done more. Warned them before it happened. Fought harder. But it’d gone down so fast. He’d been in shock. Done what he could. It just hadn’t been enough. “That’s it for this circus. We have to shut down,” Nathan Carson, grandson of the late owner, said after the ambulances took away the wounded and dead. The grounds were eerily quiet and dark. The carnies still living that hadn’t gone to the hospital, shaken and devastated, dragged themselves to their beds. Whatever had haunted the place a few hours before was no longer present. “For the season?” Walter sat in Carson’s office trailer, a thirty-foot long plush model that must have cost a bundle. Both he and Nathan had lent a hand bandaging the survivors and reassuring the bereft, then gone inside after the police had left. They were having a drink, resting, and trying to come to terms with the evening’s heartbreak. “Maybe forever.” Carson’s dirty fists rubbed his eyes. “It’s a terrible tragedy. People and animals died here tonight. I don’t rightly understand what took place, do you?” “Something unexplainable, that’s for sure.” Carson exhaled. “I don’t know what made all those animals turn into man killers like they did, Walter. I helped raise those critters and never thought they could hurt people. I’ve never seen nothing like it. It was as if they were possessed or something. And,” his eyes had a glazed quality, “it seemed to me, too, as if there were more animals charging through the woods than we had.” Walter said nothing. Carson hadn’t seen what he’d seen. Apparently, no one had seen what he’d seen. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m so sorry about the injuries and

Page 216 deaths. I’m not a heartless man, Walt, but being realistic, this is going to wreck our insurance. As sue-happy as people are these days and all. Now we’re under investigation. Sheriff Jackson won’t give up until he closes us down completely. We’re finished. Besides, two-thirds of our people are either dead or gone….” Walter, still in his clown clothes and make-up, had never felt so low. “Is there anything I can do to help, Nathan? I have money saved. For a lawyer or anything? It’s yours if you need it.” “It won’t help and it ain’t only the money…I can’t get the cries of the wounded and dying out of my mind. It was horrible. Worse thing I’ve even seen in my life and I feel awful. Out of respect for those dead as much as anything else, I’m gonna close the show for now. “So go on to wherever you were going for the off season, Walt. Nothing else you can do here. I’ll have someone tow away Big Nose’s RV. He had a daughter from a previous marriage. I’m sure he’d want her to have it. It’s all he has that’s worth anything. Is that okay with you?” Walter knew there was no use trying to convince his boss to keep the circus going. It was obvious in the other man’s bloodshot eyes and the way his hands quaked that he was beaten. “It’s okay. It was Big Nose’s trailer anyway. His daughter should have it. Is this it, then?” “I think so. I’m not sure. For this season anyway.” He flicked his hands up in the air as if it was all too much for him to handle at the moment. “Ah, call me next spring and I’ll let you know if there’s going to be a Carson Brothers next year or not. But I don’t think so.” Walter had vacated Carson’s trailer with a heavy heart. There was blood on the wind and as hard as he tried to refute it, he was afraid as he walked through the woods to the RV. Thank God, he no longer sensed or saw anything among the trees. The rest of the carnies were safe. Whatever had been there

Page 217 before was gone. Moved on. But to where? Inside, he took off his costume and make-up and packed what little possessions he had. He called Sarah in St. Louis and they talked for a long time. She’d had her own troubles that day. She’d lost her home in a tornado and was staying with her friend, Cassandra. She said some things that, along with what he’d gone through, alarmed him to the point he almost couldn’t breathe. He didn’t tell her what had happened at the circus that night, not wanting to upset her further and, truthfully, scared to speak about it over the phone. No telling who or what was listening. He needed time to meditate over the events, put some sense to them, and mourn his friend Big Nose and the others— Daisy and Hugo and all of them—who’d simply disappeared. He’d give her his story when he got there. Time enough to worry the heck out of her. He was joining Sarah earlier than planned, but she was happy that he was coming and he was happy to be going. Being with the woman he loved and who would believe him was what he needed now. He sure as hell didn’t need to be alone. Not any longer than he had to be. **** He drove his ‘96 Ford F-350 XLT four-door crew cab pickup to St. Louis. He took his time, kept his eyes and ears open, and witnessed a series of odd things. Perhaps because, more than before, he was looking for them. There was more than the usual nervous mistrust among the people he came into contact with at the gas stations and rest areas. Most of them avoided eye contact and hurried away rather than share words with him. Another bad sign. Sometimes he glimpsed the uglies behind peoples’ features. He learned to turn away quickly or they became suspicious of him. Once, in a Quick Shop, while getting cigarettes, he

Page 218 followed this guy around the building and the guy simply disappeared. Walter, close behind, had been baffled when he’d come around the corner. Ghostly laughter lingered on the air, but there was no one there. The weather began to screw up. There was storm after storm and not a clear sky in sight, adding to his feelings of disquiet. Everything felt…off. He couldn’t put his finger on why, only that it was. There were bodiless voices haunting the night. He couldn’t make out what they were saying. It could have been a foreign language—and he didn’t know any foreign languages—for all he knew. It could have been gibberish. When he checked out of his motel the second morning, his truck wasn’t out front where he’d left it. Don’t call the police, a somehow familiar voice whispered in his ear, it isn’t stolen, but nearby, start walking. Yes, this way. He found his truck a street over in front of a cemetery. Was it some sort of secret message or was he not supposed to get to St. Louis? He wasn’t sure. The truck was intact, as he’d left it. The keys dangled in the ignition. There was an abandoned white stone church in the middle of the graveyard. Weeds surrounded it and the windows were dusty. It’d been a long time since it’d seen a congregation. Go to the church. He moved along the path. The church was empty, but the wide open door beckoned him to come in. Curious and sensing nothing malevolent, he went in and waited. Shadowy and musty inside, the stones still held the coolness from the night. There were candles burning on the altar and a man knelt before it with his back to him. The man stood up and swung around to him. “I’ve been waiting for you, Walter.” He was leaner and smaller than Walter, who stood over six feet tall, and his hair, glinting copper in the candlelight, brushed his shoulders, but was sparse on top. But it was his eyes, the color of gray dove’s wings and filled with old

Page 219 wisdom that held Walter spellbound. The man’s clothes were ordinarily somber, but there was an aura of spun light around him, which made him beautiful. He’s an angel. “God has sent you a message, Walter.” For a breath-catching moment, the man transformed into a radiant being of light. Though the eyes, wise and compassionate, remained the same. Wings as fine and delicate as if made of silk unfolded and spread, filling the space before the altar. Walter collapsed to his knees, the light so dazzling he had to cover his eyes with his hands. Then the light ebbed away and only the man, who smiled at him, was left again. And Walter remembered where he’d heard that voice. It was one of the internal voices that had spoken to and calmed him after his parents had died. He made the sign of the cross, exhilarated and ecstatic to meet his old friend. “What,” he asked reverently, “do I call you?” “You may call me Manasseh. I’ve come to tell you you’ve been chosen to be a soldier for God during the end days. You are to spread the gospel of the Son and the word that He is coming again soon, prepare the undecided, convert the unbelievers; counsel those who have need and protect those who are in peril.” “Me?” He was at once honored and horrified. “Why me? I’m just a clown. No one special. No warrior or holy man.” “You are special, Walter, and you must seek out others like yourself…for the final battles are coming.” “The final battles?” It was the same thing Sarah had been going on about on the telephone the night of the circus massacre when he’d called her. “The ones between heaven and hell for the souls on earth.” “It’s really coming…now?” He’d been fighting what he feared to be true for a long time. Now he could no longer deny what was going to happen.

Page 220 “Soon. I’m here to warn you. Prepare. Do not stop your present journey for anything until you reach your destination. Not to sleep or to eat. It’s not safe. They’re waiting for you.” “Who?” “Your enemies. You know who they are.” Walter rubbed his unsteady hands over the lower part of his face. He did know. The uglies. “Why are they waiting for me?” “To kill you if they can. They now know who and what you are.” That was direct. “How do I protect myself?” “God will protect you.” “Am I doing the right thing by going to Sarah? Am I pulling her and her friends into danger?” “You’re following the path God has set for you. You’re going where you will be needed. Sarah needs you. They need you. It’s where you belong. Trust them. Pick up the sword and prepare to do battle.” He thought of Sarah’s tarot cards and her mysticism that had, until now, struck him as merely artsy and unconventional. He’d accepted her quirks, psychic abilities, fortune telling, and all. He’d loved her from the moment he’d met her, but it’d never occurred to him that she was an authentic clairvoyant. So…what she’d been seeing for a long time was real. Oh, God. “Is Sarah special, too?” “No, but she’s a believer. Cassandra and others will stand by your side.” “Sarah’s friend, Cassandra?” “She is also one of God’s chosen warriors. As are you.” It was almost too much to take in. He had so many questions he didn’t know which to ask first, but the being called Manasseh solved his dilemma. “In time, all will be shown to you. You’ll know what you must do. For now, go in peace. Go to them. But hurry. Time is short.” “Wait!” Walter thrust his hands out imploringly. “What

Page 221 about—” “Leave now. When you need me, I will come.” Manasseh was gone in a cascade of radiance that all but blinded Walter. He stumbled up from his knees, which because of a fall during one of his shows sometimes locked and sent him to the ground, and hobbled out of the church. Later, in his truck, he thought he should have stayed and thanked God for the honor bestowed on him. He should be terrified. To fight for God in the end war? Instead, after the shock had worn off, he was humbled, amazed at being chosen. Eager to enter the fray. He found himself not only accepting his destiny, but embracing it with his whole heart and being. Suddenly, his life, and all he’d gone through, made sense. Wait until he told Sarah about what had happened to him and meeting Manasseh. And Sarah’s friend, Cassandra? He couldn’t wait to speak to her either. He’d heard so many stories about her and her brother, Johnny. It was as if he knew them already. Besides the tales of their escapades, Sarah had given him a copy of their demo CD and he listened to it in his truck all the time. He was a great fan. He shook his head in amazement. Cassandra and he were warriors for the Almighty. He could barely comprehend it. What did a singer and a clown have that God could use? He didn’t know about the singer, but he wasn’t a soldier. He couldn’t even throw a good punch. Well, he was stumped and hoped Cassandra had more answers than he had. The concept of Armageddon was too immense for his mind to grasp. It’d been some time since he’d read Revelations, but on the way to St. Louis he was going to buy a copy and read every word of it. On the other hand, he could be insane and the uglies and the angel were symptoms of his illness. No, his heart was sure that wasn’t true. Hellish beasts had attacked the circus and a messenger from God had visited him. Those things had happened.

Page 222 Getting into the truck, he returned to the motel, threw his suitcase in the rear seat and hit the road again. He drove straight through that day, that night, and the next and arrived in St. Louis Wednesday evening. Dog-tired and relieved he’d made it without any catastrophes, he pulled into the Graystones’ driveway right at nine o’clock. Keeping his eyes open for trouble, he’d only stopped to use restrooms, get gas, and once at a small Christian bookstore where he bought a copy of the New Testament. Though he would have bet a rosary Cassandra’s Aunt Ellie already had one. Through Sarah, he knew that the old woman and her husband were devout churchgoers. Sarah met him at the door. “I’m so happy to see you, honey!” He wrapped his large arms around her and lifted her feet inches off the ground. “And I never want to let you go,” he rasped in her ear. “Oh, Walter, I missed you, too.” Beneath the porch light, her smile was as wide as her face before it slid off her lips. Her hair was so red it shone in the moonlight. “I lost my home. Every single brick of it and every thing in it,” she moaned. “I’m destitute. Homeless.” “No, not as long as you have me,” he assured her, his eyes going from her face to the door she’d walked out of. “And your good friends.” “That’s true. Ah,” she threw her hands towards the sky in a hopeless gesture, “and anyway it doesn’t matter now what I’ve lost or what any of us will lose with what we’re facing.” He traced bruises on her cheek; recognized the ache in her eyes. Her bravado didn’t fool him one bit. She’d loved her house and the things in it. Worked hard for every precious item. This must be very difficult for her. “It was still your home. It’s hard to lose it.” “That it is.” She gave him a poignant look. “Come in, Walter. I can’t wait to hear what you wouldn’t tell me on the phone. You know me, I can’t bear a mystery.” “No, you’re just nosy, that’s all.”

Page 223 “That’s me.” She pulled him into the house. “All nose.” Before the circus tragedy, he’d made the decision he was going to ask her to marry him. It already felt as if he’d known her all his life and they were going to be spending the winter together. He’d wanted them to be married by then. After fattening his bank account, he was ready. He’d only waited to propose because he’d been unsure what he’d do if she said yes and then asked him to leave the circus. She’d made it clear from the beginning she didn’t want the vagabond life of a traveling performer. Now that problem was no longer on the table. His circus days were over. There was nothing to stop him from asking her. If she’d have him. Especially now. If the world was coming to an end, he wanted to face it as her husband. The first time he met Sarah, he knew she was the woman he’d marry. She came to see him one night at the circus in a small town outside of St. Louis. He’d been doing his act, she caught his eye from the crowd, and he’d given her a lemoncolored balloon; said a few things to her. Flirted with her. They laughed together and he thought she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen with her big brown eyes and milk chocolate skin. She’d winked and kissed him on the cheek as a thank you—and he’d known she was the one he’d been waiting all his life for. After his act, before the show was over, his face clean of paint and in street clothes again, he’d introduced himself, they’d talked and then went for coffee. He’d asked for her telephone number. She’d given it to him. That had been the beginning. “I’m so glad you’re here, Walter.” Sarah reached up and caressed his face. “I need you. Things were freakish even before the tornado and that’s not the half of it. Now things are worse.” “Yeah? Wait until you hear what I have to tell you,” he said. “You don’t have the monopoly on weird, sweetheart. Seems we’re all on the same boat going to the same place.”

Page 224 His lips lingered on hers as he kissed her. “But we can talk about that later. Have I told you yet that it’s so good to see you, Sarah? To have you in my arms again? I’ve missed you so much.” He kissed her again and neither one of them said another word for a long time. Afterward, Sarah led him into the kitchen to meet Cassandra and Johnny. From the minute he was introduced, he felt as if he’d known them forever, too. Perhaps it was their music. Perhaps it was something else. “Hi, Walter.” Johnny grinned as he leaned against the refrigerator. He was eating a cupcake and there was chocolate icing on his fingers. He looked a lot younger than Walter had pictured him as being. “Hello, Walter.” Cassandra surprised him by welcoming him with a big hug. “We’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to finally meet you. I hear you’re staying with us for a spell?” “I am, if it’s okay with you all?” He looked at them. “It is.” Cassandra smiled. “My aunt and uncle are asleep, been a hard week for them, too, so you’ll meet them tomorrow. They said to say hi when you got here and to make yourself at home.” Standing in the kitchen, he studied the sister and brother. At first look they didn’t seem any different than anyone else. More stressed maybe. There were scars on Cassandra’s face, but she was still a pretty woman. Yet as he watched her, he recognized there was something different about her. Strength, an old soul, simmered in her eyes and there was a rainbowcolored aura radiating around her body. He met her gaze, nodded, and she nodded back. She’d been seeing things, too, he’d bet. “Cassandra,” he spoke gently, “I think an angel appeared to me. He told me I was one of God’s warriors. I was to join up with you and you’d fill in the blanks.” “I’ll be. You, too, huh?” Cassandra behaved just mildly surprised. “Welcome to the club, though I don’t know much more than you. Out of curiosity, was the angel’s name,

Page 225 Manasseh?” “I’m sure he mentioned a name, but for some reason I don’t recall it. Strange.” “Can you describe him?” “Before or after he turned all beautiful and iridescent with snow-white wings that were twice his height?” He tried not to grin, but it slipped out. “I’m so jealous. I’ve never seen an angel in true form. Not yet anyway. To be completely honest, I’m not even sure the man I’ve been seeing is an angel. Unlike you, I wasn’t given proof. But that’s me. A cynic. Ellie says he is, but I can’t swear on it. You must be extra special.” “I don’t think so. The being I saw looked like a normal guy at first.” He described him. “Well now, that sounds like Manasseh, but I didn’t get the light show.” There was no sarcasm in her words. “Oh, boy,” Johnny moaned in his direction, pretending angst with a dramatic hand to his forehead. “Another crazy soldier for God. I can’t believe this. I still think it’s lunacy believing the end of the world is coming, my man, and there’re demons everywhere trying to kill us. Please, someone wake me up from this episode of Supernatural.” Walter threw him a sympathetic look. “Sorry buddy, I’m afraid it’s true. But I know how you feel. Since this dog-andpony show started, I feel like I’m in some nightmare, too. It is hard to swallow.” “Walter,” Cassandra interrupted. “I’ll tell you what we know and what we think we know. It’ll take a while. So let’s get comfortable. Have you eaten lately?” “No,” his eyes turned to Cassandra, “and I thought you’d never ask. I could use some food. I drove straight through after the first night. No unnecessary stops. The angel in the church warned me not to stop for anything or anyone.” “Then we’ll dine and swap stories.” “All this talk of supernatural beings is freaking me out,” Johnny moaned again.

Page 226 Walter noticed how Cassandra kept looking through the window at a darkened house next door. He wondered who lived there and why she seem so guarded as she inspected it. The house appeared empty. There wasn’t a light on anywhere. “Got a problem over there or something, Cassandra?” He inclined his head towards the other house as he sat down at the table, pulling Sarah into his lap. “No. No problem now.” Sarah slid her arms around his neck and snuggled his cheek with her face. He couldn’t wait to get her alone to ask her to marry him, but he wanted it to be in private. “I’ll make us some sandwiches to eat,” she said, escaping from his lap. Sarah put a cup of coffee in front of him and went to the cabinets. “No problem now?” Walter had caught Cassandra’s hesitation. Cassandra deliberated a moment then said. “A guy I don’t trust lives next door. Calls himself Rayner. He isn’t what he appears to be. I think he’s evil. Anyway, he’s been bothering me for weeks, but I think he’s vamoosed. Or I hope so. I haven’t seen him in days.” “Good riddance then,” Walter grunted. “Hopefully he moved out and moved on.” There was more to it and she’d probably tell him eventually. They had other things to discuss. “All righty, you guys,” he said to Cassandra and Johnny. Sarah was rummaging through the refrigerator for sandwich fixings and the other two were sitting at the table watching him. “Start talking and don’t leave anything out. Then I’ll give you my side of it.” They were up talking for hours. By the end of the night, Walter had heard more than enough. If what they’d all seen and learned were true, there was no way to avoid what was coming…whatever it was, the end of days or a madness they’d all caught. No way at all.

Page 227

Chapter Seventeen Rayner The castle was in ruins and had been for centuries. The stones were crumbling and gaping sections of walls were gone. It was nothing like Rayner remembered it from the old days. The lavish tapestries and thick fur rugs, rooms of glittering treasures, and dungeon crypts lined with sarcophaguses, where the demons once rested, were also gone. And Brynmor no longer lived there deep in the bush of Africa along the lower Luangwe and Zambezi River Valleys in Zambia, hundreds of miles from the Nkwali outposts. Rayner scoured the encrusted halls and vacant cobwebbed rooms. He found no sign of anyone having resided there for a very long time…centuries. He searched the dungeons and crypts and found them as empty as the rest of the fortress. Not that he’d expected to find Brynmor. It’d been a long shot. After all, he’d been the one to break contact with his mentor and others of his breed so long ago. He’d been the one who’d wanted to be left alone and so he was. Alone. He had no idea where Brynmor was now or if he was still in the world at all. He’d lost track of him and there was no one else to answer the questions he needed to ask. He rested in the ruins for three days, partaking of the native Africans to get his strength back. Transporting himself across continents and oceans had drained him and taken every bit of his reserves. It made him understand he’d let other of his talents atrophy as well. When was the last time he’d mentally swayed

Page 228 a crowd of humans or entered one of their dreams? A long while. When was the last time he’d shift-shaped into a snake or a white panther? Too long. When was he last part of a pack of his own kind or belonged anywhere? He couldn’t recall. So he hunted the lush jungles of Zambia and he spent time reflecting in Brynmor’s ancient but decaying lair of a castle. While he was under Brynmor’s spell, they’d prowled and slaughtered humans together. His mentor had taught him many things. When Rayner had first met him he’d been new to the world and new to what he was capable of doing. A strict teacher, the older demon had taught him to survive, but had never divulged where their kind had come from or what purpose they served—and Rayner had never asked. When he was new, though, he’d never cared about why he existed, if he was good or bad, only that he keep existing. Brynmor christened them both gods. They were different even from others of their breed. They were the most powerful primeval ones. The warm African nights echoed with the cries of wild animals. The natives lived along the river in compact tribes, but weren’t easy to pick off. More superstitious than Americans, thus they were harder to deceive. Americans didn’t believe in invisibles, but the primitive Africans did. So their eyes sometimes saw them clearer. Rayner carefully moved among the natives; not doing anything that would draw attention to himself because they had an innate sense of what was not right. They could smell the differences in him. And they tenaciously exterminated the weaker invisibles whenever they encountered them. When he’d lived in Africa with Brynmor, they’d witnessed one of their breed executed by a tribe. One sultry rainy night, they’d come across three young ones of their kind hunting the same region. Brynmor, an elitist snob at the best of times, refused to mingle with them because of the reckless way in which they were behaving.

Page 229 So arrogant. Noisy. They’re not even covering their tracks. They’re not cloaking themselves. Best to stay away from them. Stupidity may be catching. The two had slipped by the foolish ones in the jungle and went on their way. Later, they heard the clamor of the human rabble and followed it. In a clearing, as the rainfall ceased, and a faint moon rose, they watched dispassionately as the humans butchered one of the young demons they’d seen earlier. With the magic of their medicine man, they cut him into pieces and burned him to ashes on a bonfire. The tribesmen, boogying around in celebration like drug-crazed cattle, chanted prayers to their gods for helping them destroy the devils among them. “If we are gods…how were they able to kill one of us?” Rayner hissed at Brynmor after they’d slunk away into the bush. “Even the newest of us has strength far above a human. Why, how, did he allow himself to be taken?” “Ah, these Africans have impressive witch doctors. Some, the strongest, can sometimes—if they catch us at a vulnerable moment—cast spells on us which make us defenseless for a brief time.” “Obviously enough time to kill us.” “As you have seen. So, Rayner, take a lesson from this,” Brynmor admonished as they slithered back into the night with the sounds of the humans’ gleeful blood cries ringing in their ears, “never underestimate these mortals’ ingenuity or their vengeance. They can be as vicious as any of us if they discover they’ve been deceived or preyed upon. Be careful among them. “Never forget this.” The long-forgotten warning echoed in his mind as he mulled over the conversations he’d had with Cassandra. She could fight off lightning. She could see him. Repel him. What other powers did she possess? She could be a danger to him. And he didn’t care. He ached to capture her and learn her secrets; he

Page 230 desperately wanted to know more about the end of the world if it was truly coming. He had to get closer to her and find these things out. So, where was Brynmor? His old teacher would know how to bend a stubborn mortal to his will and get the information Rayner wanted so badly. He knew he was obsessed with the human woman and it confused him. Obsessions, such as love and lust, were emotions, Brynmor would say, that only humans believed in. And love, what humans thought of as their purest and strongest of passions, didn’t exist, either. Humans made that up as well because it made them feel better. Made it all up, a voice in his head scoffed, as humans made up the story of souls or of the end of the world or of angels? He wanted Cassandra. But he didn’t want her to despise and fear him. The fascination he had for her grew each day as if something stronger than himself was attracting him to her and it mystified him. Oh, he hoped Brynmor—wherever he was—would know what was happening to him. He, as all his kind, knew the world was a gigantic multidimensional sphere. There were many worlds one upon another that humans never walked in and never saw. His kind lived covert lives and kept their hiding places secret. So he racked his memory for Brynmor’s other earthly hidden dens, knowing that if his old teacher were in another dimension, he might never find him. There’d been a chateau in France and a country house in Athens. When he left Zambia, he transported himself to the country house in Greece. He had no trouble finding the location, but the house was no longer there. It’d also fallen into dust with the passage of time. Now it was a valley of overgrown woods and wild orchards. Yet going there was when he first became cognizant of his comrade’s gatherings on a scale he’d never witnessed before.

Page 231 In the woods outside the nearby village, he saw hundreds, perhaps thousands, of lesser demons assembling, plotting to take over the world and eradicate humans. So naïve, so silly for them to gather in such numbers so near to the human cities, he thought. They might be discovered. He felt little kinship with or desire to join them, but was astonished at how they weren’t bickering or tormenting each other. That wasn’t like his brethren at all. Not at all. He tracked a few of them at different times, unseen, to find out what they were up to. They brought humans to their camp, killed them, and devoured their remains. Their hunting territory covered hundreds of miles. After awhile though, he began to feel the unnatural pull and the energy of the horde so much he had to fight the urge to join them. He’d never experienced anything like it before. It was like a siren’s song. Come to us. Be one of us again. Destroy and conquer with us. He barely escaped. It was the same extraordinary situation in France on the land that had once held Brynmor’s chateau. The chateau, of course, had long past gone back to the land. But the surrounding unpopulated hills hid thousands of his kind veiling their presence from the world, but not from him. This group consisted of older, smarter, and stronger demons that knew what they were doing. And it shocked him how openly they were going after their prey, breaking all the demon rules set down through the millennia. They weren’t afraid of anything. Oh, how he wanted to understand what was happening. Were there gatherings like this going on all over the world? In America? He didn’t tarry long in France, either. The longer he stayed, the stronger the call to become one of the swarm grew and he didn’t want to be a tiny part of any massive invasion. Just a robot demon following someone else’s orders. He’d been his own boss, an army of one, for way too long. He was one.

Page 232 Alone. Unique. Yet, the gatherings had made him very nervous. Demons didn’t fraternize with each other this way. Not in this world. Not knowing where else to look for his absent teacher and not wanting to stay away longer, he returned to Mrs. Tyler’s house. He couldn’t chance Cassandra leaving and not knowing where she’d gone. Not that he thought she would abandon her aunt and uncle. She was too protective of them to do that. But who knew? Things were changing. He could feel it. “Ah,” he reported to Mrs. Tyler, “my visit with my New York publishers went well. But I’m so weary from jet lag. Please don’t disturb me for a few days, so I can get some rest.” She believed every lie he uttered; as she believed he paid his rent every month on time and that he never went out at night, but was upstairs working on his novel. Mrs. Tyler was such a simple-minded woman. So easily led. She caused him no trouble and that was the way he liked it. He did rest for a short time, though not before he’d snuck out and made sure Cassandra was still living next door. What came as a surprise was the other people now with her as well. Her brother, some other mocha-skinned woman he’d seen once or twice, and another brute of a man he’d never seen were either visiting or had moved in. It was all so odd. Was she buffering herself with family and friends to feel more secure? It wasn’t in her nature. So what was she afraid of then? He couldn’t imagine it was of him. Something else must have happened. He eavesdropped outside the windows as best he could, but the voices from inside the house weren’t giving anything away. They were chatting about a circus and animals that had died and what to do about the aunt who mentally or physically, he couldn’t decipher which, had taken a turn for the worse. And the man he’d never seen before kept moving to the window and staring out as if he knew he was out there. Finally, fearful of being caught snooping, he retreated to Mrs. Tyler’s

Page 233 house. It was good he’d fed on the way back on some campers in the woods of North Carolina, an unscheduled stop, for it meant he wouldn’t have to go out for a while. Which meant, he could keep an eye on the people next door. **** He slept in his room for a night and a day and on the second night he had a visitor. Brynmor, his old teacher, stood at the foot of his bed. “You were searching for me. Why?” “How did you know?” He sat up. Brynmor was in his true form, all seven feet of him with blood-red leathery skin and bottomless sooty eyes under lowered lids. His teeth were long, dirty, and the claws on his tapering hands, smothered with diamond rings, were razor sharp. His black wings were folded tight against his thick body and sparkling necklaces hung around his mottled neck. Brynmor hadn’t changed much. He’d been a fussy dandy who’d liked priceless jewelry and, in human form, fine clothes and still obviously did. “I heard you summoning me. It’d been such a long time. I thought you were no longer on this earth. Imagine my amazement when I recognized it was you. After all these centuries.” “I’m still here.” Brynmor morphed into his human shape because the room was cramped and he kept catching his wings on the furniture and ceiling. As a man, he was tall, skeletal, with a gaunt-featured face, reptile eyes, and hair to his shoulders the color of a crow’s wing. His trousers and long sleeved shirt were of dark silk. He gleamed, a Christmas tree with jewelry as ornaments. “You haven’t changed at all, Master Brynmor.” “You have.” The other demon went right to the point. “What have you done to yourself? I wouldn’t have recognized you if I met you on the streets.”

Page 234 “What do you mean? I haven’t changed.” “Yes, you have. You’ve faded. You’re smaller. You look so… human, Rayner. You sound human, too.” “I do not. It’s merely my disguise.” “Then it’s a good one.” Brynmor snorted. “You’ll need it with what’s coming. Why were you searching for me?” Brynmor rarely wasted time on casual conversation and in that he hadn’t changed, either. “Something’s altering the fabric of this world. I’ve sensed it coming for decades. Now, well, on top of it I’ve seen such inexplicable things and I’m curious. Did you know our kind is gathering together to round up and butcher humans? Rare enough, as we never were truly social creatures to begin with, but our numbers—our powers—are increasing tenfold. I feel stronger every day. “The weather has become so erratic and I’ve seen a great deal of severe weather in my life, but have never seen it this violent. Do you know anything about this?” “Ah, Rayner, perceptive as always.” Brynmor’s human expression was bored. “Yet, I’m surprised you don’t know what that something is. It’s common knowledge among us these days. Where have you been?” Hiding. Staying away from all of you reprobates. “What is?” “They say our Master, the one who made us, has called us to wage the final battles. I’ve lived for thousands of years and the day has at last arrived. Ha, about time! I never thought it would. I was wrong.” There was no emotion in his mentor’s voice, only a bland acceptance. In the past, nothing had ever gotten Brynmor excited and in that he also hadn’t changed. Feeling the first daggers of alarm, Rayner was mystified. “Our Master…fight the final battles? I thought you said we had no creator? That we just were? What are you speaking of?” But he was lying, he understood and everything made sense. “Poor Rayner. Tsk, tsk. Your head was forever in the clouds.” The older demon released an ironic chuckle. “You prefer not to think of yourself as one of us, but you are. Deny

Page 235 it if you will. It won’t change anything. “Regardless of what I ever said, one whom the humans call Satan, Lucifer, or a host of other names, made us.” He idly motioned his hand in the air as if to discount all he’d ever told him before. “I was in denial those years I roamed with you. I know better now. I was called before him. I’ve met him. Once before him, his lineage cannot be denied. I’ve seen, bowed to his all-encompassing power when it was shown to me. We’re tied by a bone and blood promise to obey him for eternity. We owe him for our very existence and…he’s called in the debt. Now we fight.” “Fight?” “The humans, of course. Their creator, their God,” the word verbalized with scorn, “has been preparing his soldiers, his angels, to fight as well. Soon we’ll meet on the battlefields.” “You never told me about this debt.” He tried not to let his frustration show, but it was hard. The other demon’s words had surprised him. “You never told me we had a Master we had to obey and who wants us to fight the human race.” “And the angels, too,” Brynmor quipped smugly. “Angels, too? You said angels didn’t exist, either!” Rayner screeched in growing anger. “You never said anything about having to fight them.” “You never asked. And I never thought to see this day, yet here it is.” Brynmor’s voice was haughty. “We’ll take this world so we can walk free as our true selves anywhere and anytime we desire; so we never have to hide again. We’ll do what we want with humans as our slaves and food. We will win!” A fanatic’s fervor laced Brynmor’s words. He’d never seen such zeal in his ancient mentor before and it shook him as much as learning he irrevocably was a slave to a supreme demon. “And, yes, my dear Rayner,” Brynmor snapped churlishly, “for your information, angels do exist. I’ve seen them. Once, I even fought one.” The creature gave a wicked chortle. “And you won?” Rayner was incredulous.

Page 236 “Well, not exactly. Almost.” Brynmor’s shrug was ambiguous. “It flew away before I could defeat it. The coward. That doesn’t matter now. I know the filthy things exist and that’s what counts.” “I don’t believe it,” he mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed, his body tensed as his thoughts tumbled in aimless circles. He came to his feet. In a few weeks, all he’d ever believed to be solidly true had shifted away beneath him… and he didn’t know how to handle it. “What I have said is the truth. Believe it.” “These humans we’re going to fight—how can you call it a fight? Why, they can’t even see us.” He rapidly hid his deceit by hastening into the next observation. “I mean, they can’t defeat us. We’re stronger.” He was nervous that Brynmor would probe his mind and see he was withholding vital information. And then what would he do? He sure as hell couldn’t let the other demon know about Cassandra. It’d put her and her family in danger and he couldn’t allow that. In his mind, subterfuge was necessary. “Ah, ha,” his mentor murmured, reading some of his thoughts anyway, “but some humans can see us and will defy us, won’t they? You’ve discovered that, too. Their powers rival ours. They call themselves soldiers of their God and their ranks are growing. Soon they’ll be hunting us as we have them for eons. Or so it is said. None of us will be safe.” “Impossible,” he mocked. Though the idea of humans hunting him as he hunted them shook him. Was he now to be the prey? That would never happen. Brynmor was wrong about that. At least, while he didn’t care much for them, he had the answers he’d been seeking. “You would think so. To make matters worse, these days those vile angels are everywhere.” Brynmor snarled, stomped his feet, and threw his head back. In his anger his inner demon shimmered into being, reasserting itself, and he fought to regain his human shape. “I can’t go any place these

Page 237 days without being conscious of their presence. Their stink is everywhere. I want to kill them! Tear them to pieces! Eat their entrails!” The older demon pounded his hands against the wall. Smoke sizzled pungently from the burning plaster. Where Brynmor’s flesh had touched wood, there were burn marks. “I loath them more than the puny humans. Grrrrr. Hate…hate them! I want to slice them all into tiny bloody chunks and devour every piece!” He remembered Brynmor slaughtering humans with such glee in every way imaginable, the more painful the better. He’d disposed of thousands during their time together. Much more than they could ever feed upon. It was one of the reasons Rayner eventually parted ways with him. He’d grown tired of the senseless cruelties and the endless killing. He’d just about forgotten that. Now those memories made him uncomfortable. He still disliked most mortals, yes, and wanted to kill them—but not Cassandra or her brother or her aunt and uncle or anyone who was cherished by Cassandra. And that was odd, because if his suspicions were on target she was most likely one of those super humans Brynmor was rattling on about. Which made her his eternal adversary and him hers. It made her dangerous and explained a lot. Did Cassandra know what she was yet? Probably not or she would have dispatched him long ago. A soldier of God wouldn’t allow a powerful enemy to live, especially this close to her—or would she? Did she feel something, too, for him that had kept her from doing so? Now, that was an interesting notion. He was thinking too much. It made his head pound. His kind wasn’t made to think about difficult dilemmas. They were made to torment and feed on humans and now…fight angels. Ha. That’ll be the day. He’d been silent too long and Brynmor was closely scrutinizing him, nose twitching. “Er, I saw massive gatherings in France and Greece,” he

Page 238 misdirected, desiring to get off the sensitive subject of God’s soldiers and angels. “More of our brothers arrive every day.” Was Brynmor reading his mind, could he tell he was different? See he was a liar, a turncoat? The fingers on his left hand kept jerking. His right eye twitched. Usually, he feared no one and nothing, but Brynmor was the strongest demon he’d ever known. Old comrade or not, Brynmor would break him like a dry stick, feed on his brains, and feel no regret, if he thought he was a traitor to their cause. “Er, none in Africa, though,” he tagged on to cover the uneasy silence that’d fallen between them. Brynmor waved his hand in the air. Snorted. “Well, that country is more primitive but, in time, our brothers will also be congregating there. Our armies will be so great we’ll be everywhere and humans won’t have a prayer.” He snickered at his little joke. Rayner heard Mrs. Tyler enter the house. She’d been out somewhere doing something. He could never keep track of her. His landlady was a funny mortal. She’d confided in him she was looking for a fourth husband. Apparently, she was looking for them out in the bars because she usually came home quite tipsy and singing maudlin songs at the top of her lungs. “Yesterday, all my troubles were so far away—” she screeched at an obnoxious decibel level as she stumbled her way to her room on the lower floor. Rayner hid a smile. Against his will, he’d become a teeny bit fond of the old barfly. She spun outrageous but colorful stories of her life and of others. She was lonely, so she talked. A lot. At first, she’d forced her company on him and he’d played the part of an attentive listener or he sent her away believing he’d listened. He’d put it in her mind that he was too young for her, which had made him laugh, and that, at least, had kept her from pestering him romantically. Otherwise she would have tried. She refused to accept she was wrinkled

Page 239 and fat and annoying. So she ended up treating him like a son. Cooking for and fussing over him. The food he pretended to eat and tossed down the toilet instead. She made frivolous gifts she’d leave at his closed door with cute notes. They were stuffed, forgotten, in his closet. Somewhere along the way he discovered, to his surprise, he’d grown fond of her fairy-tales. Her comical quirky ways entertained him. Her attentions eased his loneliness. “Let me kill her for you. Quick.” Brynmor winced at the woman’s singing. His eyes glittered hungrily. Rayner had seen that look before. “You don’t need her and, anyway, we are no longer hiding from mortals. Our orders are to kill all of them on sight. No longer are we to hide the carcasses, but leave them as warnings to other humans.” He clenched his fist and shook it at Rayner’s eye level. “I’ve been waiting ages for this.” Rayner flinched. More unsettling news. He didn’t want Mrs. Tyler eradicated and he didn’t want the humans to know he existed. He liked it the way it was. “Thank you for the offer, my friend, but leave that pleasure to me. I have plans for her.” He gave Brynmor his best licentious grin, licking his lips, and flashing his demon face for a millisecond. “As you wish, Rayner.” The singing grew in volume, accompanying the banging of pots and pans in the kitchen below. Brynmor put his hands over his ears as his face contorted. “Oh, I wish you would let me do it now. I can’t tolerate much more of that racket.” Rayner shrugged. “It won’t last long.” “Then I won’t stay long,” Brynmor retorted acidly. “I’m on my way to greet our new reinforcements in England. They’re due to come in any time.” “New reinforcements?” “Our Master’s remedy to the super humans and angels. Our mightiest warriors are coming up from our home below

Page 240 and moving into position along with their hell-mounts. Rumor is that we’ll have a couple fallen angels on our side as well. We’re,” he flashed that malevolent smirk again, “bringing out the big guns. No human, even with supernatural strength, or angel will be able to stand against them. Our victory is assured!” “Fallen angels?” Rayner asked, still having a hard time taking everything in. Until his old pal had dropped by he’d had no idea he was one of Satan’s children. Well, wouldn’t believe it, anyway. Perhaps he’d suspected it somewhere deep in his psyche, but had buried that grenade along with every other truth he hadn’t wanted to find. Now the little bombs were detonating everywhere. All he could think about was that he was precisely what the mortals had always said he was: a soulless, evil spawn of Satan with no will of him own. He didn’t want to be that. It was so unfair! Didn’t he have a say in anything? Was he just some puppet! And who was this Satan demon anyway and why did he have to follow him? No, he wasn’t going to. “You know…angels that have deserted their God’s ranks. Now they’re with us.” “I know what a fallen angel is.” Then he thought of something. “You know the humans have this Bible. Said to have been written by their God. It says the angels and the humans will win this final battle.” Brynmor sniffed the air, his eyes slits. “You haven’t been reading that piece of crap, have you?” Rayner shook his head, something that felt like fear coursing through him. “No. It’s just what I’ve heard.” “All that stuff in their Bible is nonsense. What do you expect when men wrote it? Of course they’re going to say their God wrote it—hah! Of course they’re going to say they win. But it’s a lie. A big fat lie. We are supposed to win, not them. And soon we’ll be so many and so great that they won’t be able to stop us, you’ll see. “These are exhilarating times, my young friend, are they

Page 241 not?” Brynmor slapped him on the back and nearly knocked him across the room. The old demon was a whole lot stronger than Rayner remembered. “You should come with me,” Brynmor croaked excitedly. He was already looking out the window. Already gone. “You’d have the opportunity to meet the most powerful of us. You could take your rightful place among us. Be on the front ranks of the coming battle. It’ll be enlightening. Come.” “I’ll think about it,” he replied evasively. “There’s this field outside of London where we will be gathering in three days. You’ll know where it is. We’ll summon you,” Brynmor informed him. “Come!” Rayner tried to invent a plausible lie. He didn’t want to join the blood hungry horde in England and be one of thousands. A mindless foot soldier. Fodder for the coming carnage. He was unique and wanted to forge his own destiny. Be his own creature. He hushed his seditious thoughts so Brynmor wouldn’t hear them. “I’ll follow soon, Brynmor. I have loose ends to tie up here first.” He gaze slid downwards towards the landlady’s presence on the lower floor. “Afterwards, I’ll join you.” “Ah, the landlady with the screechy voice. So be it. Have your fun, but don’t take too long. We’ll be on the move soon. There is much to do. Many to kill. We’re targeting their so-called soldiers first—there’s a great hunt beginning for them—and then the rest. Let the angels come; we’ll be ready for them. The war has begun!” Another sadistic snicker and Brynmor was no longer in the room. Agitated, Rayner paced back and forth before the window. He didn’t want to join the troops and wage the final battle, but knew he couldn’t elude Brynmor and the legions forever. The war would come. According to Brynmor it was already here. So what was he going to do now? On the other side of the window, the new night hummed and sang as he considered his options. Finally, he had to accept that he’d changed and not for the better. What he

Page 242 was and what he wanted were no longer clear. No doubt his ambivalence had something to do with Cassandra, but he wasn’t sure why he was fighting it. He wished he knew what was really wrong with him. When he became lost like this, it helped to go out and hunt. That’s what he’d do. But he must be careful to stay away from his kind. He didn’t want to be drafted. **** Brynmor reappeared in the shadows beneath the trees outside Rayner’s boarding house. He’d lied about leaving because he thought something wasn’t right with his old friend, Rayner. The younger demon had behaved peculiarly. Brynmor hadn’t seen Rayner in ages, but the demon he just saw was not the demon he’d known then. Rayner had changed. He was holding back. Hiding secrets. Brynmor didn’t like that. It was something he’d have to investigate later. That wasn’t why he was hiding outside in the dark. He would deal with Rayner when he saw him next. Standing in Rayner’s room, he’d kept getting whiffs of angel or something close to it. The residue was faint, but there. He’d followed the horrendous smell into the yard and across the driveway into the next one. It was very strong around the house next door to Rayner’s. He snuck a peek into a window on the lower level and saw a gaggle of humans crowded around a table drinking and eating. There were two old ones and four younger ones. A woman with reddish hair and brown skin left the room. One of the younger men, larger and taller than the other, got up and came to the window. He was glaring out at Brynmor as if he could see him. The demon stepped back. The man dropped the window’s blinds. The inside of the house was no longer visible. Had the man seen him?

Page 243 Brynmor’s interest was aroused. Was that being on the other side of the window an angel? He wasn’t sure. He’d lied to Rayner. He’d never fought an angel before and had no idea what one looked like. He’d never met one. He only knew the whiff of foulness he’d caught was connected to them. Some of his fellow demons had described it in excruciating detail often enough to him. Angels stink like dead lilies. Sickly sweet. Make you gag. He wasn’t gagging, but he felt like he almost could. No, the being inside had to be a man, but the taint of angel was all around it. That’s what he’d smelled. Which meant one thing. The man had been in contact with an angel recently. He could be one of those God’s soldiers. It would explain the stench and why he’d closed the blinds. Ah, he could see him. So the real question was…why, as close as he was to the house next door, hadn’t Rayner discovered this? How could he not have known? A rage grew inside him. His body reverted to its true form. Crimson eyes shone in the night, and his face became a grimace of malice. He hated humans, but he despised these alleged soldiers worse; almost as much as he did angels. He wanted to kill them all. Kill. Kill. Kill. Well, the war had begun so he’d just wipe out everyone in that house. He fashioned a fireball in his hand, one of his new powers, and lobbed it through the window. The glass shattered. He threw one fireball after another until the house was a fiery inferno. The flames warmed his leathery skin and produced a cunning smile on his scaly lips. How he loved to watch things burn. It was as satisfying as tearing a human’s throat out or draining their fragile bodies dry of blood and just about as satisfying as a massacre. The fire crackled, spat, and spiraled towards the sky. It lit up the night. The demon danced around before it, shouting and flailing its fists as it had endless times before.

Page 244 “There, you soldiers of an anemic god, take that! We are mightier and smarter than you are and we shall win! No matter what your Bible or your god says. We shall win!” He could stick around to feast on barbecued human, but had to go. The troops were waiting. He was to be one of the squadron leaders. Truly a great honor. Laughing at his clever vandalism, he vaporized into the night. England and his comrades waited. Let the extermination begin. **** Rayner smelled the fire before he heard or saw it. Cassandra’s house was in flames! Without thinking, he teleported into the burning structure straight to Cassandra’s upstairs rooms to make sure she got out. He searched through the blaze frantically. Fire couldn’t hurt him unless he remained in it for an extended period, so the flames and the smoke didn’t faze him. He spotted Cassandra’s red-headed friend on the floor coughing and crawling towards the window. There was Cassandra’s tiny white fur creature huddled in a corner yowling, trapped in the thick blanket of smoke that filled the room. He’d seen it in her lap many times when he’d watched her through the windows. She was fond of that silly little fur ball. He scooped up the cat with one hand, grabbed the woman with the other, and delivered the two instantaneously to the front yard then popped back into the blaze to resume his search. Cassandra. He had to find her. Get her out. He bumped into her and the tall stranger at the bottom of the steps. They were struggling to get upstairs, but the thick layer of smoke wouldn’t let them. The man bellowed Sarah! Sarah! W here are you! So terrified of losing this Sarah, whoever she was, his face was a mask of panic. Cassandra looked up, saw him. “You did this, you fiend! I

Page 245 told you to stay away from my family,” she screamed at him. “I warned you! I’ll kill you—” She launched herself at him. “I didn’t do this!” He defended himself; put out that she would even accuse him after all he’d done for her. Fighting through smoke and fire to save her friend…and her stupid fur animal. “Then what are you doing here?” She was still yelling. “I saved your friend…brown plump woman…found her upstairs…and your fur pet...they’re both outside…alive. I returned for you,” he shouted back rapid fire. The house was on the verge of incinerating. He had to get Cassandra out of it. He didn’t care about the big guy, whoever he was. “Liar!” She knocked him down. They rolled across the floor at the base of the steps in the smoke with the fire closing in around them. Every time she touched him, there was a stab of agonizing pain. Her strength, he thought, right before he zipped to another place outside the house to get away from her, was astounding. He’d never felt such power in a human before. She didn’t need him saving her that was for sure. She could take care of herself. Probably always could. So why hadn’t he known that before? If she were one of those God’s soldiers and this was what they were capable of inflicting on him, he should rethink his opinion of humans. Some humans anyway. He wasn’t used to experiencing pain, though he could; rarely had before, and he didn’t like it. Didn’t like it one bit. Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Cassandra had to know he’d saved her friend and pet. It was important to him, though upon thinking about it more, he couldn’t say why he cared, but he did. He lingered by the burning building until he saw Cassandra and the tall man unhurt outside; and her uncle, aunt, and brother also accounted for. Rayner knew the chubby woman he’d saved, he’d seen her coming and going from the house before, but he didn’t know the man. Could be he was

Page 246 Cassandra’s boyfriend. Strangely, the thought irritated him more than he’d admit. In the yard, he watched from a distance as the tall man comforted the red-haired woman. Oh, so she was his. Good. Rayner felt relief, but didn’t know why. As he didn’t understand why he’d gone into the burning house to save Cassandra, or any of them, in the first place. What was he doing saving humans? If Brynmor knew what he’d done, he’d rip him to strips of meat and devour him for a snack. No trial. No mercy. He asked himself again, why did any of this human business matter to him? What was wrong with him…aiding humans? Ah, ha, he had it, he was losing his mind! Fire trucks had arrived. A mob of humans milled about. There were way too many of them. He hadn’t fed yet and some looked pretty tasty. Aggravated at, but unable to stop himself, as the house stood smoldering in the night, he loped over to Cassandra’s uncle. The old man was on the ground weeping as he held his sleeping wife in his arms. His wet-looking eyes stared up at what remained of his house. It was blackened rubble. The air around them was heavy with curls of smoke. Rayner felt a rare twinge of pity. He’d seen humans cry, usually while he was assaulting, torturing, or killing them, and had never felt anything before. Instead of getting out of there, as he should have done, he found himself kneeling beside the old man. “I’m so sorry about your house, Mr. Graystone. Please accept Mrs. Tyler’s and my invitation for all of you to come and stay with us until you can get relocated.” Now, why had he done that? Before the old man could say anything, Cassandra towered above them. “Thanks, but no thanks, Rayner. We have a place to go.” Her voice was flat, no longer angry. He gawked up at her, but couldn’t read her expression in the flashing lights. At least she didn’t attack him this time. “I

Page 247 was merely offering.” “I said we don’t need your help. Now go away, Rayner.” Cassandra’s other houseguests surrounded him. He could sense the distrust. The tall man glared at him as if he knew what he was. Oh, my, he can see me, too. “How is the woman I helped out of the fire doing?” Rayner forced himself to ask, though he should have been long gone. “And the small animal?” “They’re both fine.” A long pause, then she squatted down and said in such a low voice only Rayner heard her, “Sarah collaborated the story that you saved her and Snowball. All I want to know is: Why did you do that when you’re our enemy?” “I’m supposed to be,” he said sharply, scrunching up his face. “But I saved the woman and your little furry creature anyway.” That was all. He stared at her, for some reason, waiting for her approval. A thank you. Something. “Why?” “Uh, I wanted to please you? I knew that losing them would have made you sad.” For a moment, she studied him with confused eyes, then turned away. “Thank you for saving them,” she stammered. “But now go. Please. Go.” And there was a threat behind the words. He wasn’t a complete fool. He went. He didn’t expect her to welcome him with open arms, but she could have at least been a little nicer to him, he sulked. Then again, she probably didn’t want to be considered weak in front of her friends— or she didn’t want to acknowledge she’d been wrong about him. Her no-nonsense tone let him know she hadn’t forgotten what he was and that this was only a temporary truce. Good enough. He clomped away, muttering to himself. What was he doing? He should kill her. Kill all of them. He couldn’t. Oh, he was in so much trouble. Hanging around in the shadows making sure Cassandra

Page 248 and her family didn’t see him, he overheard that they were going to a Motel 6 on Route 3 across the bridge in Illinois for the rest of the night. They believed if they went far enough away, across a river, they’d be safe from whoever had torched their house. They believed demons started the fire. How strange. Wrong. Unless…he recalled what Brynmor had said. The war has begun. They were to destroy humans on sight. Had Brynmor burnt down Cassandra’s house? Why? Because they were humans…or to remind him what he should be doing? Hmmm. Maybe his old teacher had read his thoughts and tried to kill Cassandra’s family as punishment knowing he’d become attached to them? If that were true, Brynmor might also know his other secrets. Oh, oh. So why hadn’t he destroyed him? Rayner had no answer for that, but best if he kept away from Brynmor indefinitely. England was out of the question. Not that he’d planned on going in the first place. He hadn’t. Thousands of his breed swarming around in one spot? Oh, no. No sense in taking the risk. If he were smart, he’d avoid all his kind from now on. One of them might read his mind and uncover his treason. Then for sure he’d be a dead demon. He had an idea where the Motel 6 was, and pleased he’d know where they’d be, he went out to hunt. Maybe fresh blood, new kills would empty his mind of all this nonsense. Helping humans. Being nice to them. Please. No longer thinking about Cassandra and her friends, he let instinct take over. His concern over a bunch of humans and their losses didn’t assuage his hunger. It was still there. As always. For he was an immortal blood demon. Strong. Invincible. He must feed or perish and, partially thanks to Cassandra, he no longer was ready to die yet. Not while things were just beginning to get interesting.

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Chapter Eighteen Cassandra “Cassandra, who was that man?” Walter grilled her the second Rayner left the premises. It’d begun to rain heavily and the temperature to drop. Too late to save their burning house, but in time to make their plight more miserable than it already was. She hadn’t exactly told Walter the other night that she knew Rayner was a demon. Johnny and Sarah knew, but not Walter. The four of them talked late into the night after Walter had arrived and conferred about many things, but Rayner positively being a demon-that-lived-next door hadn’t been one of them. Walter had given them a harrowing account of the circus’s animal attack and what he believed caused it. Cassandra hadn’t been shocked to hear that he, too, had seen the humanfaced beasts; seen some of the other things she’d seen. He was encouraged when she told him of her other abilities. “Perhaps we’ll have more advantages to fight with than I’d thought.” “Lord, it’s good to be able to talk about this openly,” she’d said, “and be believed. To know that I’m not completely crazy.” “You’re not,” Walter had replied. “I know exactly how you feel. Gee, I’m not crazy, either.” He’d given her a whimsical smile. “But I wish I were.” Her heart had gone out to him. “Isn’t that the truth? And now, things are changing so quickly. The situation is escalating.” He’d leveled solemn eyes at her. “It’s not coincidence we’ve been brought together, is it?”

Page 250 “I don’t think so. We were meant to meet and seek out others like ourselves. It’s just beginning. Sorry.” They watched the house burn to the ground and she finally told Walter about Rayner. “I can’t figure out why Rayner keeps helping us.” “He’s a demon,” Johnny blurted out. He hunkered down by their uncle and handed the old man a cup of coffee donated by one of the neighbors. He’d found a tarp somewhere and draped it over the three of them. Her uncle shared the coffee with her lethargic aunt, gently putting the cup to her lips and cajoling her to drink. He hadn’t heard what Johnny had just said. “I know that,” Walter said loudly, to be heard above the rain, as he crouched in the downpour. “I saw his real face when I met him in the burning house. I just didn’t know what to do about it.” “Well, we were sort of busy,” she reminded him just as loudly, the rain streaming down her face. “Looking for Sarah and getting out of there. I’ll tell you all about Rayner later. We need to find a home for the night first. Get my aunt and uncle out of this rain, out of harm’s way. Aunt Ellie to bed. She isn’t well.” For days, even before the fire, her aunt had been withdrawn and silent; more infirm than she’d ever seen her, yet peaceful in a way. She slept a lot. It was nine-thirty at night. Cassandra was exhausted, frustrated, and unsure of what would come next. First Johnny loses his place, then Sarah, and now them. What was God trying to tell them? Or was it the other side? It’d been lucky most of them, her uncle and aunt included, had been in the kitchen eating a late night snack when the house had caught fire. Sarah had been the only one out of the room, getting something upstairs she’d wanted to show Walter. It could have been far worse. Cassandra watched the smoke rising into the night with

Page 251 tears in her eyes. They’d worked so hard on their home. They’d cherished it. It’d been their sanctuary. She couldn’t believe it was gone. Her tears slid down her smudged face and she swiped them off her cheeks with the back of her hand. She needed to be strong now. Losing the house had to be sadder for her uncle and aunt. They’d lived in it their whole married lives. There was a hopeless grief on her uncle’s face that broke her heart, and her aunt, though sleepy-eyed and distant, behaved as if she’d given up, too. Rayner swore he hadn’t set the fire. She’d seen a kind of fireball crash through the window and roar past her. She’d heard the other windows breaking and heard the flames engulfing the rooms around and above them. One minute they’d been laughing and eating pie and the next they were choking from the fumes, scrambling and running for their lives. It’d happened that fast. She had no doubt someone had fire bombed their home; the house targeted on purpose. But if Rayner hadn’t done it—and could she really believe the words of a demon, for heaven’s sake— who or what had? Other demons, her mind whispered. Someone else knew she could see them. A handful of neighbors mingled around offering them hot cocoa or coffee, blankets, and used clothes. The rain had slacked off, but it’d gotten chilly. In another week it would be October. They’d gotten out barely with their lives and little else, though Johnny had somehow had the foresight on his way out to grab the metal box that held their aunt and uncle’s important papers, their medicine, and a couple of purses sitting on the counter. Ellie was in her pajamas and robe. What she’d been wearing when the house had been fire bombed. Her uncle was also in his nightclothes. Lucky thing, as he was wont to do, he’d had his wallet in his robe pocket. Two of their neighbors, the Swans and the Friedrichs, kindly volunteered to take them in. She thanked them but

Page 252 said no. “If someone’s trying to kill us,” she confided to her uncle when he questioned her decision, “I don’t want to put anyone else in danger or stay where we can be easily found again.” “I see your point. It’s not safe here any longer.” His voice was lifeless, as if he didn’t care about it or anything else much at that moment. Ellie was sitting in a borrowed lawn chair, her face from under the tarp blank as it lifted towards the night sky. She hadn’t uttered a word since they’d brought her out of the fire and hadn’t shown any emotion. It was as if her body was there, but her heart and mind weren’t. It’d been that way since Cassandra had attempted to heal her and her aunt’s condition only piled more guilt on her head. Sarah, wrapped in Walter’s arms, should have gone to the hospital to be examined for smoke inhalation, but she’d adamantly refused to go in the ambulance that’d been sent out. Before she’d gotten out of the house, she’d run into a door and it’d left a sizeable bump on her head. “I’m okay,” she claimed. Her eyes were glassy, she looked ragged, but she wouldn’t leave them. “No way I’m getting separated from you guys. I’m scared enough the way it is. Tornado took my home. Now this. “I know our strength is staying together.” “You should let me take you to the emergency room,” Walter pressed his concern darkening his face. “That’s quite a bump on that pretty head of yours.” Almost without knowing she was doing it, Cassandra laid one slender hand on Sarah’s head and felt the heat tingle underneath her fingers. “Pain’s gone.” Sarah rubbed fingers across her scalp, staring at her as if she’d just grown a halo. “The lump’s gone. Thank you, Cassie. You know…it’s nice having a healer for a friend.” “You’re welcome. Don’t thank me, though, thank God.” “I will.”

Page 253 “I wish I could fix our wounded house as easily,” Cassandra muttered more to herself than to anyone in particular. As Walter helped Sarah into a chair, everyone thankful that the woman was okay, her attention, though, was on her uncle. “Are you feeling all right, Uncle?” He’d also been lethargic since the fire and sat in the rain with Ellie waiting to be told what to do. Always the strong one, his indecisiveness was hard to take. For the first time, he was looking to her and Johnny for guidance. “I’m okay. Just tired and worried about Ellie here.” His heart’s broken is more like it, she thought. His wife’s illness. Losing his home. It was too much for him. Where was that enigmatic priest now or had he’d abandoned them already? She was discouraged, too. Their home—now home to all of them—was gone. It was devastating and made her feel lost, hopeless. Now she understood Sarah’s distress. Johnny, not so much. His home was wherever there was food and a warm bed. Though he’d lost that warm bed twice now in so many days. And the fire had revived vivid memories of the fire that had taken her family from her. Going back into the flames tonight was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do because it was as if she were reliving that old nightmare. The entire time she and Walter had been in the burning house searching for Sarah, she’d been a breath away from screaming in panic and jumping out a window. The ordeal had been as macabre as her life lately. The rain came down harder. An ivory mist swirled in from the river and hid the trees and dwellings around them. They were alone on an unearthly island with their scorched home at the center. Time was holding its breath. Her eyes tracked the people, cars, and police as strobe lights cut through the dark in multi-colored swatches. A police officer asked polite questions and she answered them as best she could. “I don’t know how the fire started, but I

Page 254 think someone firebombed us.” Walter inclined his head in concurrence, solemnly. “Something was thrown through the windows and exploded. The house went up like dry tinder. We barely got out.” The officer scrutinized the smoking structure as he interviewed them. “Yeah, all of you were fortunate. Neighbors said the house went up real quick. “You got any enemies?” She wiped her hands on her dirty jeans and caught another fleeting look of commiseration from Walter. What a mess she must look like. She had no jacket, and as cool as it was, she was sweating, her face smudged with ash and her hair in need of brushing. Yeah, I have enemies. They’re demons from hell with supernatural powers. They’re everywhere. Oh, and by the way, the end of the world is coming. Soon none of this will matter anyway. One razed house will mean nothing. Zippo. Towns will burn and cities will fall. She had to say something, but she couldn’t be truthful. He’d cart her away to a loony bin. “None that I know of. My brother and I are musicians and we sing out weekends at the Red Carpet. We have the usual groupies and oddball fans, but no one I could imagine would do this,” she said carefully, knowing she wasn’t really helping the clean-cut young officer much as he scribbled things down in a notebook. “Any verbal or written threats recently from anyone?” “No.” The cop was kind, but all she could think about was what a waste the whole charade was. There wasn’t time to answer questions she had no answers for anyway. She should be taking care of her aunt and uncle. The rain was cold and her aunt was shivering. Her uncle was in shock. They were two old people who’d been through enough for one day and needed to get out of the weather. It was a relief when the questioning was over. Things would be better once they had

Page 255 a place to stay for the night. They all needed a healing night’s sleep. “I know this Motel 6 across the bridge we can go to that’s clean, comfortable, and cheap,” Walter divulged aside to her so her aunt and uncle wouldn’t hear. “A good place to hide. Out of the city. I don’t think we should loiter around here any longer than necessary. If demons are behind this fire, they could have tailed me from Wisconsin or they’re out to get you. All I know is that we’re not safe here any longer. It’s a miracle we’re alive.” “Not really.” She regarded Walter. “It wasn’t our time because God’s got plans for us.” Walter nodded. “I’m beginning to see that.” “But as you say, it’s time for us to go.” She didn’t want to think about what Rayner had done, saving Sarah and Snowball as he had, or why. There were other things to worry about, more immediate problems to tackle. She had a heck of a headache…and no aspirins to take. They’d burned in the fire with everything else all of them had had in the whole world. She informed the police where they’d be, and with her aunt and uncle, got into her car. The others climbed in their vehicles and they convoyed across the river to the motel. All of them were frazzled, craved hot showers and soft beds. Getting her aunt and uncle someplace warm and dry was all she could manage at the moment. She was too tired and discouraged to worry about anything more. **** They settled in the motel in three side-by-side rooms on the first floor. To save money, one was for Cassandra, Johnny, and Snowball, to share. One for Sarah and Walter. One for the old ones. “If I had my way, we’d all crash in one room,” Walter said. “Easier to protect everyone.” “There’s no one room that will accommodate the six of us,” Cassandra pointed out. “Besides, Uncle George snores

Page 256 like a woolly mammoth, Aunt Ellie cries in her sleep, and Johnny has so many bad habits I’m the only one who can put up with him.” “Well then, next door to each other will have to do.” She telephoned their insurance company and left a message about the house fire and a telephone number where they could be reached for more information. After that, she helped her uncle and aunt prepare for bed. Her aunt was asleep before the covers were tucked around her. Her uncle mumbled half-hearted goodnights and followed his wife to bed. The rest of them met quietly at the corner table before the windows in her aunt and uncle’s room, being it was the largest. She couldn’t bear to have them out of her sight yet. And nothing would wake them because they were both sleeping like people under a spell. Outside, the rain ticked against the glass, the night hovered like a hungry animal, but they kept the curtains closed so no one could see in. She hated that they were hiding like criminals, yet better cautious than sorry. Or someone dead. The four at the table were exhausted, longed for showers and sleep, but there were plans to make, things to do first. Walter had his arm around Sarah. Since Cassandra had put her hands on her friend, she was better. Still somewhat dazed, but her head no longer hurt. Snowball slept curled up in her lap. She stroked the cat’s soft fur and felt its tiny body warm against her skin. At least she had her. She envied Sarah having Walter, though seeing the two lovers together made her a little nostalgic. She’d had someone once. He’d loved her; wanted to marry her. Gone three years now. She missed him so much at times the tears still came. “I’m sorry about your uncle’s…your…house.” Walter locked eyes with her. “It was a great house. Full of love.” “I know.” She released a barely audible sigh. “Second time Johnny and I’ve gone through this. Second time we’ve lost

Page 257 everything to fire. Thank God, this time, no one died. “I fear it’s merely the beginning. Our futures will become more difficult. Quickly. All we can do is fight the good fight, and put our faith in God.” “Amen.” Walter bowed his head. Then asked softly, “Cassandra, you ever find out what caused that fire that took your family?” “No. We never did. The fire chief thought it could have been frayed electrical wiring.” She didn’t want to think about that awful night. Today of all days she didn’t need to dwell on that other fire. Her heart was heavy enough. Johnny watched the rain through a slit in the curtains and acted as if he weren’t listening. She knew he was. Walter took her hand as if what he was about to say might upset her. “I know how you feel. I lost my whole family in a car accident when I was fourteen. We’ve both suffered family tragedies. Lost people we loved when we were young. Now… the assault on the circus and this fire tonight. Seems to me our pasts have striking similarities…possibly because we have the same destiny. You know what I’m getting at, don’t you?” She pulled her hand from his to continue petting Snowball. “Not really.” But she did. She just didn’t want to hear it from someone else’s mouth. Snowball’s fur beneath her fingers was silky and the cat’s purring a rumbling vibration that soothed her. “The car crash and both the fires might not have been accidents.” “Not accidents?” she echoed, as the truth he was getting at crept in. “They might have been deliberately planned.” It’d never occurred to her that her family’s fire had been anything but a tragic accident—or that someone had purposely tried to kill them. That revelation cut like a sharp blade and twisted inside her heart. She didn’t want to believe it. Therein would lay madness. Just the thought made her livid, but the

Page 258 anger helped lessen the misery of her memories. “You mean all this might have begun that long ago? Are you saying the other side got rid of our families?” She couldn’t imagine what it would mean if it were true. Johnny gave her a beseeching look that mirrored her own sorrow. Tears waited in the corner of his eyes, but didn’t fall. He hadn’t cried the day she’d pulled him from the fire, when he’d been in such pain, or at the funeral of their family or today as their aunt and uncle’s house had incinerated to the ground. Johnny never cried. “It’s just speculation,” Walter said. “Looking back, though, it makes sense. You’ve only known for a short time what’s going on, but others, our enemies, have known a lot longer.” “Walter, my family died over twenty years ago.” His expression was sympathetic. “Mine died fourteen years ago. Satan’s been planning this for millenniums and fourteen, twenty years is nothing to him and his legions.” “So…they’ve tried to kill us before?” “And will try to kill us again. Count on it.” Johnny remained silent, but there was a bleak look on his face. “Walter is a religious man,” Sarah interrupted proudly, leaning against his shoulder. “He’s studied all denominations. He could be a preacher he knows so much. I’d listen to what he says.” Cassandra lowered her face into her hands and massaged beneath her eyes. “I don’t want to listen, but I will. It’s hard to accept that demons have and will keep trying to kill us. That they killed your family, my family. If someone would have told me this a few months ago I would have thought they were off their meds.” The cat jumped off her lap. “Precisely,” Walter stated. “Cassandra, speaking about the uglies, er, that’s what I call them, how about telling me now about that one you were fighting with in the fire. Rayner?” “You could see he wasn’t human, too, huh?”

Page 259 “I could. A few weeks ago I couldn’t see them, but now I can. The hideous things have been haunting me ever since. More and more each week. They give me the heebie-jeebies.” A moan escaped her lips. “As I said the first night, I see them, too. I thought I was off my rocker at first. It’s almost a relief to know I’m not the only one.” She shook her head. “Boy, we’re having fun now.” “This Rayner?” Johnny interjected with a sneer. “He’s been stalking Cassie for weeks since he rented that room next door at Mrs. Tyler’s.” Walter looked directly at her. “Has he tried to hurt you?” “No,” she replied truthfully. “He just seems to be most places I am. From the first time I met him—I bumped into him one night outside the house—I keep running into him. During a storm, he found Aunt Ellie outside when she’d wandered off. Another night he conveniently showed up at my job when my car wouldn’t start. He fixed it. Too easily, if you ask me. He’s been shadowing me. I warned him to stay away from me and mine. He doesn’t listen.” “When did you realize he wasn’t human?” Sarah was listening closely. “I knew something was wrong the first time I met him,” Cassandra went on, “but it took awhile for me to see what he truly was. It was about the same time I started seeing them… in the faces in the crowds…in the woods hiding behind trees. Like you, it started a few weeks ago.” “So he’s never threatened or hurt you?” Walter asked. “But he found your aunt out in the storm and he got Sarah and Snowball out of a burning building today? Humph. I have to say he doesn’t behave like any evil entity I’ve ever heard of.” “No, he doesn’t, but he’s one. Whenever I’m near him I see these flashes of what he really is. I feel repulsed and horrified at the same time. I don’t know why he’s so obsessed with me or why he keeps trying to help me. So I’m baffled.” “I know.” Sarah then gave her version of a reason. “He might have, somehow, sensed what you were, too, Cassie. Evil

Page 260 is drawn to good. Or he knows you’re one of God’s warriors— and he’s a spy for the demon side.” “He could be.” Cassandra watched Snowball swatting at a dust ball by the table leg. “Well, it could explain why he’s so interested in me. Oh, and he said he’d seen the lightning strike me.” Everyone at that table knew about the lightning strike. “Question is what else has he seen and who else has he told?” Walter was staring out the windows as if he expected something to peer in at them any moment. Sarah’s head shook slightly. “If he’s a spy, why did he save me and Snowball from the fire? I was mostly out of it, but I vaguely recall him picking me up. Funny thing was we were upstairs one second and outside the next like we were beamed out, right before I lost consciousness. Of course, it could have all been in my mind. I was pretty out of it. “ Walter made a dismissive gesture. “I’ve seen them do weirder things. They can move as quickly as a thought. They possess supernatural strength and they can make most humans believe anything they want them to. Mind control. I’ve seen it.” “Doesn’t work on me,” Cassandra huffed. “That mind control stuff. He’s tried, I think, and seemed miffed that I didn’t obey. I guess God’s soldiers can’t be swayed by demons. Good thing.” “I guess not.” Walter nodded. “Cassandra, you understand we’re supposed to kill them, don’t you?” “Kill them? You mean the demons?” She’d been holding her breath and didn’t realize it until the dizziness forced her to start breathing again. “Yes, kill the demons. Any demon we come across. No exceptions. That’s what we have to do from now on. That’s what the angel told me. “If we come across Rayner again, we’ll have to vanquish him. He’s our enemy. Though I can’t fathom why he’s been helping you, either. Helped us. I’m deeply thankful for him

Page 261 saving Sarah, but the fact is, he’s a demon. He’s evil. Our job is to wipe them out. We’ve been chosen to do that. It’s why we can see them when other people can’t. Why some of us have been given other…abilities.” He was looking at her. “I mean, I don’t have any other powers, but apparently you do. Did your priest tell you anything about that?” “No. He sidestepped most of that information actually. Never got to it. Said I wasn’t ready to know everything yet. If he ever shows up again I’ll be sure to ask him what sort of powers I’m supposed to have or supposed to get.” A slim portion of the curtain slipped away from the glass and the night’s slice of window was a bottomless black. The wind howled about the building, the rain drummed on the roof and made her long for her old cozy bedroom upstairs. Well, she’ll never be in that room or in that lovely house again. Her home. Gone. Again. Her precious treasures… antiques and thrift store finds…her special trinkets, clothes and stuffed animals…exquisite original paintings…forever lost. Gone. She fought off tears. “How are we supposed to kill them, Walter? With guns or swords or do we hit them over the head with a bat?” She couldn’t imagine defeating those horrendous creatures. “I won’t lie, I don’t know. Perhaps my angel might tell us how. I’ll ask next time I see him.” Walter grinned for the first time. “Like you, whenever that’ll be.” “Oh, great, you do that and let me know what he says. Ha, I thought this day couldn’t get any worse.” She wanted to shut out the world, forget what she knew, crawl under a blanket somewhere, and stay there. “Who said living through these times was going to be easy.” Sarah smiled at them. “But as long as we’re together we’ll find a way.” Walter leaned over and gave her a kiss. Cassandra lifted her chin and smiled back. “Always the optimist, huh, girlfriend? None of us are going to have a choice in what’s coming. We’ll do what God wants us to.

Page 262 “Truthfully? The fire should have killed us today. We’re lucky to be alive.” “I’ll say.” Walter’s gaze slowly traveled to the people around the table. “And with that in mind, I propose, to be safe, we take turns on sentry duty the balance of the night.” “I second that and will accept the first watch.” She stood up. “After what’s happened I’m not going to sleep much anyway. Too wired.” Too scared. “Good.” Walter was on his feet, too. “Sarah and I can find a supermarket and buy the basic necessities we’re going to need. Like a coffee pot, groceries, and toiletries. As the night goes on I’m sure we’ll want something to eat. Heck, I could use a strong cup of coffee or two right now.” “I could use a whole pot.” Cassandra grabbed her purse. “You need any cash?” “No. There’s money in my wallet. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. From this minute forward,” Walter said. “I strongly advise none of us go anywhere alone and we get cell phones so we can stay in touch.” “Smart ideas,” she agreed. “Where are we going to get that kind of money? Groceries and cell phones aren’t cheap. We have to pay for our lodging now, too; new clothes and refills on medicine for the old folks.” “The money’s no problem.” Walter took out his fat wallet and showed her all the cash in it. “Before I got to your house the other night, I stopped at a branch of my bank and took out my savings. After what Sarah told me on the phone, I was sure we’d be needing it.” “You’ve been saving for years. Wasn’t it for a house?” Sarah spoke up. “Your retirement?” Walter’s smile faded. “A house…when staying in one place could be dangerous? What retirement? Cassandra’s priest stated Rapture was near. If I recall my New Testament correctly, we’ll only have seven years after the Rapture to worry about. “We need the money now to survive. I started stashing it

Page 263 away years ago because I had this intuition I’d need a lot of it in the future. The compulsion to save was so strong I couldn’t resist it, so I hoarded every penny. Now I know why. It was for this.” “You’re right.” Cassandra’s eyes were on the blackness outside again. “If what we think is going to happen happens there isn’t going to be any retirement for us. For anyone. It’s hard for me to think in terms of years before the world as we’ve loved it and known it ends. No matter how hard I try I can’t get my brain around that, you know?” “I know,” Sarah replied sadly. “I don’t want it to end, either. Maybe we’re wrong. We’ve read the signs wrong. The tornado and the house burning were just bad luck. Life.” “Sure, we can hope. But we’d better be ready if we’re wrong. So, we have other things to discuss,” Walter finished as he and Sarah headed for the door, “when we get back.” “Gonna give us a hint to what those things will be?” Johnny slouched in his chair. His tired face was smudged with gray, he reeked of smoke, and he couldn’t stop yawning. He looked older than his twenty-seven years. “Nah, I’ll tell you about it when we return. I want to get to Wal-Mart and back quickly. I don’t like us splitting up for even a short time.” He turned to Cassandra. “While we’re gone, don’t underestimate our enemy. They could be hunting for us even now. Don’t open the curtains, don’t parade around outside, and keep a low profile. We’ll hurry.” “So cloak and dagger,” Johnny remarked acidly with a listless grin. “This isn’t a game, friend. The other side is crafty and eager to find us. So all of you stay hidden. Be quiet and be safe.” Johnny blinked. A bedraggled kitten caught in a trap. He looks as if someone has beaten him up, Cassandra thought. Fear did that to him. When they were gone, she kept a close eye on her aunt

Page 264 and uncle, so afraid something would slip in and hurt them. Johnny sat with her guarding the windows. “We’re homeless again.” The dismal motel room was bare of everything familiar and more tears stung her eyes. She kept them from falling. This was not the time to be weak. Not now. Her aunt and uncle slept behind them and the world beyond the room, probably full of prowling hellish beasts, was eerily silent, holding its breath. “I can’t stop feeling lost. I miss my room, my bed. My things. My old life.” For once, Johnny didn’t make fun of her. “I know.” Her brother moved his chair closer and put his arms around her. “My apartment wasn’t much, but it was fixed up just the way I wanted. I miss it, too. I find motel rooms depressing. I can’t stop thinking of all the people that have stayed here, slept in the beds. Cheated on their mates here. Laughed, cried, sorrowed here. Runaway husbands. Runaway wives. Runaway runaways. So go ahead and cry, Sis. You’ve earned it. It’s been a hell of a day in a hell of a month.” “What are we going to do now?” She wiped her eyes of the few tears that had escaped. “I’m already tired of being a target. Tired of all of this. Only the thought of crawling into bed and sleeping for a week appeals to me.” Johnny nodded. “I feel about the same. I could sleep for days. But we can’t. “About the house…we’ll have insurance money, you know? We can rebuild if we want to.” A funny look crept into his eyes. “Uh, oh. That is if Uncle George remembered to send in the house insurance bill last month.” That finally made her chuckle. “He did. I put the stamp on it and stuck it in the mailbox myself or it never would have been sent. I found it in the trash can, of all places, one morning and took care of it.” “Thank goodness.” Johnny let out a small sigh. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” “Under the circumstances, though, I don’t think there’ll be

Page 265 any rebuilding.” “You mean the end of the world and everything?” “That and if the other side firebombed us once, as Walter says, they could again. It might not be safe to live in one place anymore. We can’t just do what we want, Johnny, we have to be smart now.” “Well, what if, as you said, the fire was an accident?” “That was wishful thinking. I know it wasn’t. So do you. So does Walter. I heard the windows breaking and one of the firefighters told me that the fire didn’t break out in one location, but many. It was arson all right.” Snowball jumped off the end of the bed, pranced about the room, sniffing at things, then returned to the bed, curled up and closed its eyes. It twitched as it slept and kept opening one eye to inspect the strange room. As all cats, being territorial, it missed its home, too. Ah, if only she were a cat. She wouldn’t have so much responsibility on her shoulders. But there were people depending on her and she had to deal with it. She had to. Walter and Sarah were back in an hour. “Gosh,” Cassandra exclaimed at the bags they lugged in, “there’s enough supplies here to take care of an army. You leave anything for anyone else?” To which Johnny found amusement in emphasizing, “I guess, in a way, we are an army, we’re an army of God, aren’t we, Cassie?” “I suppose we are.” Sitting at the table eating sandwiches and drinking coffee with her brother and friends around her she pondered again how lucky they were to be alive and together. She shouldn’t ask for more. As long as she had them she could face anything. She didn’t want to think about the days ahead and what she’d do if she lost any of them. Though that could happen. It could have happened that night. It’d been a very close call. “You going to unveil your plan now?” Johnny nagged Walter as the other man woofed down a ham sandwich.

Page 266 Johnny seemed to like Walter. They’d formed an instant bond from the minute they’d met. Johnny loved the circus and Walter loved Johnny’s music. Walter was more grounded, wiser than his years, a good older brother, where Johnny was a dreamer half the time his mind kite-high in the sky. She hoped the two would become good friends. “Sure.” Walter sipped his coffee, looking into one face after another. “I’ve been mulling over this for days and after what happened tonight I believe it’s a viable plan. I have money and tomorrow morning I’m going into St. Louis to buy a large RV. I’m offering you all a bunk in it. Snowball, too.” “Why an RV?” She asked first. “Because we should take this show on the road.” He bobbed his head as he talked. “Get as far away from here as we can as fast as we can. It’ll be safer. Now that our enemy knows we exist and we’re here, they’ll try to kill us again. A moving target is harder to hit.” Unsure at first, the shrewdness of the proposal soon sunk in. “You’re right. It isn’t safe for us here. Father Manasseh did say we were to seek out others like ourselves. Protect the believers. Fight. We can do those things on the road.” “No rebuilding the house then, huh?” Johnny queried, disappointed, but he answered his own question before anyone else could. “If it saves our lives. Okay. We should leave. As Walter said, a moving target is harder to hit, right?” “Right,” Sarah joined in. “With Walter’s money and with what I’m going to get from my house insurance maybe we can get a comfortable home on wheels big enough for all of us. We stock it with supplies and hope we can live awhile on what’s left. Until we see how events play out, travel the country. Go to places we’ve never been. It’ll be an adventure. Gosh, I can’t believe I said that.” “What about Aunt Ellie and Uncle George?” Cassandra wanted to know. “We take them with us,” Walter answered. “But they both have doctors here. They need prescriptions

Page 267 filled. What about Ellie’s condition? How can we manage it on the road?” Her head was crowded with the problems leaving would create. “How can we take them away from everything they’ve ever known?” “We’ll work it all out. There’s the Internet where you can order anything you need. Pharmacy chains. They’re across the country. You can stay in touch with their doctors and order prescriptions anywhere we go. Hospitals and doctors are everywhere, too, if there’s an emergency. The RV will have all the comforts of home. We can get a laptop Internet connected computer. Big screen TV. Whatever we need. Your aunt and uncle will be fine with us. They don’t have a home here anymore anyway. Home is with you two, and most importantly, they’ll be safer with us. And we’ll be together to watch each others backs no matter what comes.” “You have it all worked out.” Cassandra poured a cup of coffee from the pot that sat on the table. Sarah had also bought cups, dishes, forks, and spoons from the all night Wal-Mart. “We do,” Sarah told her friend cocking her head at Walter. As the others her eyes kept going to the dark outside. “It makes perfect sense to me.” “Also,” Cassandra was getting into the swing of it, “there’ll be insurance money coming to my uncle and aunt on their house. We could use that, as well, if we need to. To live on...if the worst happens…or to settle down with later if it doesn’t. So I agree, this RV scheme sounds like a good idea. For now.” “Cassie, what about our job?” Johnny’s face was haggard in the room’s bad lighting, his body had wilted in the chair. The long night had caught up with him, as it had for them all. “We quit. With all that’s going on is the club really where we should be? We have that other problem: after the other night, when I saw so many demons, it could be too dangerous to keep singing there. It might be wise of us to just disappear. Better safe than sorry.” Johnny stared at her. “And you’ve made this decision without talking to me first?”

Page 268 “I’m sorry. I know you love the music, our job, so do I. Yet there isn’t really any decision to make, little brother… something’s stalking us, trying to hurt us. Life as we’ve known it might be over and we’re going to adapt. As Aunt Ellie would say we got to do what we got to do and trust that it’s the right move.” “I’ll never let go of my music. Without it life is nothing.” Johnny’s voice was tinged with barely contained anger. His hands were clenched on the tabletop. “Is hunting and killing these demons you and Walter see—which by the way I still don’t—going to be our whole lives? Don’t I have anything to say about it? It’s my life, too, you know.” She opened her mouth to respond, but didn’t get the chance. Sarah put forth a compromise. “Time out, you two. You don’t have to give up your music yet, Johnny. You can play on the road in the towns we visit. Do short term engagements wherever, whenever, for as long as you can. Take along copies of that demo CD you guys made last year to use for auditions, if you need to. I know Johnny has a bunch of them in his car trunk.” “You know,” Cassandra touched her brother’s shoulder and made him look at her, “that’s not a bad idea. Being traveling musicians. For as long as we’re able. It could make us money.” “Yeah, we still need money. Now anyway.” Johnny finally smiled and his hands unclenched. “I like that idea.” “Good-bye, Red Carpet,” Cassandra sing-songed. “On the road we go. You can write your songs anywhere, Johnny, or that’s what you’ve always told me. Now you can prove it.” “Sounds doable to me.” Johnny leaned back in his chair and yawned. “But right now I can hardly keep my eyes open. We done for the night?” “We are. Time to get some sleep,” Walter suggested. “Tomorrow’s a new day and we begin a new life. We should rise early and go get that new mobile home. Anyone else is welcome to come along. I’ll stop by here in the morning about

Page 269 nine o’clock. We can have breakfast together.” They’d picked up fruit and sweet rolls with the other things from the store. Somehow Walter had become their leader and Cassandra let him. It felt good for once to lean on someone stronger and she was too exhausted to care much either way at the moment. “Nine o’clock here it is,” she concurred. “If George and Ellie are feeling well enough tomorrow morning, I’d like to come along, Walter. Help pick out the RV.” “Me, too.” Sarah took Walter’s hand as she came to her feet. “Someone needs to stay here with our aunt and uncle tomorrow morning. So I will,” Johnny volunteered with a weary smile. “If they’ll let you test drive the RV, Walter, can you bring it back here so I can see it, too? That’d be great. Since it’s going to be my home as well.” “If they let us,” Walter said, “we’ll do that.” The gang broke up to retire to their separate rooms. The rainy night closed in around them, the wind mourned with soft and strong sighs and the refuge of the daylight was far away. Cassandra took a quick hot shower and was in bed asleep by the time her brother got out of the bathroom and crawled into the other bed. She thought she’d have trouble sleeping, but she didn’t. As soon as her head touched the pillow, she was half asleep. The drumming of the rain lulled her into a place where there were no life-changing decisions to make, no demons or angels, just silent velvet blackness. Her last thought was that tomorrow she should go to the church. If Father Manasseh were there perhaps he’d tell her if they were doing the right thing by leaving. After a silent prayer for God’s protection throughout the remainder of the night, she drifted off. **** Rayner hid outside the room listening to Cassandra and her brother’s soft snoring. Having learned that they were

Page 270 leaving town tomorrow, he merged into the shadows. He’d stay close by until morning to be sure none of his brethren bothered them again. Somehow, he was going with the humans, even if he had to do it covertly. He wouldn’t be left behind. At dawn, he’d return to Mrs. Tyler’s to pack. Not that he needed or had much, but he wanted to plant an overpowering impulse in his landlady to move. Right away. Before Brynmor came back and questioned her. She might confess something detrimental about Cassandra, or about him. He wanted her to escape. He didn’t want to kill her, it was just too much trouble. At least that’s what he told himself.

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Chapter Nineteen Cassandra When the sun came up, Cassandra climbed into Walter’s truck with him and Sarah. She’d just gotten off the phone with her uncle’s insurance agent, Mr. Staten, and he’d promised to begin the paperwork to reimburse them for their house. They’d received George’s last payment right before the deadline. So the house had been covered. “The fire took the whole building,” she’d told him. “Burnt it down to the ground. There’s nothing left.” “I’ll have a look at it this morning, take photos, and let you know what the home office says. Shouldn’t be any problem getting the money for it, Cassandra. I’m sorry to hear about the loss of your home. Have George give me a call when he’s feeling up to it. And don’t worry about your motel bills. Insurance will cover that, too. Keep receipts.” Mr. Staten was an old family friend. “If there’s anything I can do for you and your aunt and uncle, don’t hesitate to ask. Just call me.” “Thank you. Right now there’s nothing else we need. Just that money.” She let him know she’d call back to check in, and hung up. Time to go RV shopping. Johnny waved good-bye from his room’s threshold. She watched him shut and lock the door and go to her aunt and uncle’s room. He was on guard duty until they returned. She was anxious to get out of the motel and on the road. “We’re being eyeballed again. I can feel it,” she imparted to Walter and Sarah before they left.

Page 272 “Then the sooner we get out of the area the better.” Walter inspected the parking lot and the land around it as he drove through. “Can we stop at the church first before we look at RVs?” Cassandra requested as they pulled onto the highway. “Sure, a prayer for our journey and our new life would be in order.” Walter swung the steering wheel to the left. Sarah was sitting beside him, a hand on his knee. The rosy sunlight made her hair shine and her skin glow a paler shade of chocolate. As long as she had Walter, she’d said to Cassandra that morning over Danish and coffee, she could face anything. She was being so brave. “That’s one of the reasons I want to stop,” Cassandra said. “You’re looking for that elusive priest of yours, huh?” Sarah quipped. “Right?” “You know me too well, friend.” She looked at her and Walter. They made an unlikely couple, Sarah so petite and he so tall. His hand was twice as big as hers. But somehow the two of them fit, belonged together. It was the love in their eyes. The considerate way they treated each other. In just the short time she’d seen them together, they appeared to think and believe alike. They were inseparable. It made Cassandra feel good to know they’d be with each other now until the end. That all the people she most cared about would be around her. That was the best consolation prize she could imagine and it gave her strength to go on. “You think Manasseh could be at the church?” Walter’s gaze met hers. How gentle his brown eyes are. How full of wisdom. A bear of a man, an entertainer, and a self-taught scholar with a sense of humor, his looks belied his innate intelligence. She could see it, though. What a motley gang of do-gooders they were. A clown, a fortuneteller, two bar singing musicians, and two old people. “Sometimes he’s there. Sometimes not. Let’s take a chance. I really need a little advice.” “Not sure about us leaving town, are you?” Walter was

Page 273 quick. “It’s not just that.” “Well, if your priest doesn’t show up, we could still pray for that advice and for help anyway. Churches are good places to do that.” Walter’s truck shimmied down the road. Bouncing. It needed shocks. “Praying couldn’t hurt. And if we’re leaving town I want to say good-bye to my church. Through all the troubles of my life it’s been my sanctuary. I’m going to miss it so much.” Along with the ghosts of her dead family that resided there. “Point me in the right direction,” Walter said. She did. They crossed the bridge and were back in St. Louis. The three lit candles, kneeled, and prayed. Their footsteps echoed in the empty church. Morning masses had ended an hour before, yet the smell of incense lingered. There were no priests or angels waiting to speak to them. “It’s a beautiful church.” Walter’s eyes traveled the chamber. “Sarah told me how much it means to you. I’m sorry you have to leave it.” “Thank you. But I’ll always carry it in my heart.” Cassandra noticed Sarah peering around when her head wasn’t bent. Being in a church was rare for her. “Looking for angels?” Cassandra asked amused. “Yes. Any one would do.” Cassandra and Walter exchanged a humorous look. There were no angels there. Manasseh, where are you? I need to speak to you. Cassandra had about given up and was ready to tell her friends it was time to go when she heard his voice in her head. You’re on the right path, Cassandra. You don’t need me to tell you that. Walter is one of the chosen, as you are, and your friends will be your allies. Teach them well. Journey this country and be comforted that wherever you are, God will be with you. I will be with you. W hen you have need of us we will be there. So fear not. Go.

Page 274 Cassandra made the sign of the cross as she came off her knees. Relief made her lightheaded. Father Manasseh hadn’t abandoned her. They weren’t alone. “Let’s go, friends. I got what I came for. No celestial appearance today, though, sorry, Sarah.” “Oh, darn.” Sarah’s fingers snapped in the air. “I really wanted to meet that priest of yours or,” she smiled at Walter, “see that angel of yours with his dazzling snowy wings.” Walter’s lips curved up. “Honey, you’ll see an angel when you start seeing the beasts.” “I’d rather not see either then.” Sarah scowled. Cassandra exited the pew, genuflected, and led them out of the church. Cassandra, Manasseh’s voice in her head again as they walked out into the day, prepare yourself for loss, yet know that no matter how sad your heart, this is the way it must be and it cannot be changed. Know that heaven will be waiting for those who believe. This place you live in is not God’s place. Happiness and eternity are in heaven with Him. Instead, rejoice. Cassandra paused before she got into Walter’s truck, her fingers on the door handle. The message had stopped her in her tracks. What loss? Hadn’t she lost enough? A shadow passed over her and she gazed upwards. There was nothing there. Did Father Manasseh’s words mean that someone she loved was going to die? Looking sideways at Sarah and Walter, fear wedged deep inside her. Who this time? And it cannot be changed. She bowed her head to hide her uneasiness from the others. There was nothing she could do except wait for what was to happen. Walter, behind the truck’s steering wheel, ticked off verbally what was next on their to do list. “Buy a motor home, stock it with everything six people will need to live comfortably, buy cell phones…what else?” “Weapons?” She had no idea why that had popped into

Page 275 her head. “I might have what we’ll need in the rear of the truck,” Walter said. “Show you later.” Weapons. Why had she asked about weapons? All she wanted to do was return to the motel; gather her loved ones close around her, burrow in deep and hide. Freeze the moment forever. Walter pulled into the used RV lot, so high-tailing it back to the motel just yet wasn’t an option. He was on a mission. “We’ll buy our new home first. Then we’ll get whatever else we need.” He got out of the truck. “Time to bargain.” Walter rubbed his hands together with enthusiasm. “I’m really good at this.” It didn’t take long. With Walter’s expertise they’d picked out the metal bus, as Sarah affectionately dubbed it, a MCI Bus Conversion 8V-92 DD Turbo Motor Home, with sleeping for six, a full bath with shower, TVs rear and front, kitchen with dishwasher and a compact combination washer and dryer crammed in next to the bathroom. There was a queensize bedroom in the back, a couch that pulled out into a small double bed and a table area that folded down and became another bed. The bus was a red and silver behemoth with a mammoth engine and a pull-out awning to give them a shaded place to sit outside. It was truly a home on wheels. Cassandra fell in love with it the moment she entered it. The kitchen was full of shiny counter tops and cabinets. It wasn’t as roomy inside as she would have liked, but it’d do. “So this is the one,” Cassandra said, when the salesman left them alone to talk it over. They’d inspected five others in their price range, but the MCI Bus Conversion 8V-92 DD Turbo was the best deal. The owner had died and his widow was selling it dirt cheap, just what they could afford. “It’s a fair price. And Walter can almost stand up in it.” “It has a large engine. Probably gobbles gas.” Cassandra

Page 276 was reading the specs on a printed slip of paper. “We need this much power?” “We might, running from the beasts and all,” Sarah spoke. “You say they’re fast.” “They’re very fast.” Walter answered for her. “We very well might need power and speed. Best to be prepared…for anything.” “So, this is it?” Walter spread his hands out in an inclusive gesture. They approved the selection with nods and silly grins. “First though,” Sarah interrupted, “let’s take it for a ride and run it past Johnny so he doesn’t feel left out. Give him a vote, too.” “He’ll like it.” Cassandra was checking out the bathroom. She flushed the toilet and looked into the shower stall. “What’s not to like? It’s clean. Homey. Actually, much nicer than the dump he was living in before the tornado.” “Isn’t that the truth.” Sarah snickered. “Let’s take it.” “Okay, I’ll find the salesman, leave a deposit, get the keys. We’ll swing by the motel. Let little brother see it. Then we’ll buy it.” Walter grinned and left the motor home. An hour later they were signing papers and taking possession. Johnny had liked the motorbus as much as he could have, her uncle had given it a passing grade, her aunt had been too out of it to even care, and that had been that. The salesman was a tad surprised when Walter paid in cash, but he got over it quickly. He became all smiles. “You’ve made my day as well as the widow’s,” he said. I bet we did, she thought riding in the recessed passenger’s seat as Walter drove the motor home to the motel for the second time. Sarah was driving the truck behind them. Cassandra hadn’t cared much for Walter paying for the whole thing, but he reminded her that her day would come. “We have to pool our money from now on. This is my contribution. After this, the cell phones and a few more weapons, my money will be gone. Someday it might be you

Page 277 and Johnny paying the bills with your singing. Then you remember I bought the bus.” “I’ll never forget.” She leaned forward to pat Walter on the back. They parked the motorbus behind the motel and walked to their rooms. Looking in on the old ones, she was relieved to see that both her aunt and uncle were feeling better and were still resting. All of them sat down for a snack in Ellie and George’s room. “Now we purchase cell phones and supplies for the motorbus.” Walter, with pale half-circles under his eyes, was sipping his second cup of coffee and eating a muffin. One anxious night’s sleep hadn’t been enough. “Since the fire took everything, we need clothes. Personal items. Let’s get a list going of sizes and whatnot. We’ll buy them at the same time, or some of them, until the money runs out.” Johnny babysat again and Sarah, Walter, and she went out foraging for the provisions they’d need. Three hours later, they returned with a trunk load of used clothes, linens, household necessities and five cell phones. To conserve money, they’d purchased everything they could from a Good Will store and a Dollar Store. It basically wiped out the balance of Walter’s savings. He showed her a revolver, a thirty-eight, and a hunting rifle he kept behind the seat of his truck before he transferred them to the motor home. “Traveling with the circus, I sometimes needed protection. The revolver’s an antique, but I’ve taken excellent care of it so it works like a new one. The rifle has been handed down through my family for three generations. Both guns are in excellent condition. “I should get the bullets blessed,” he deliberated out loud. “They might wound or kill the beasts then.” “They might.” She knew nothing about weapons much less how to use them. “I’ve no idea how to kill them. I’ll probably have to learn. We all will.”

Page 278 “Well,” Walter went on, “I have enough money left for the motorbus’s gas and the oil we’ll need for the engine and generator. It’ll last for a while, not long. The motel’s paid up through tonight. George says Ellie’s weak, but doing better. So we should leave tomorrow. Is that okay with everyone?” “Okay with me. And I have good news. It’s kind of like a miracle, really,” Sarah shared with the others. “I’ll have money before we leave. My insurance payout on my house has already been finalized. I called and my agent will cut me a check tomorrow afternoon. We can get it on the way out of town. I told him we were leaving, really need it now, and, being a friend, he pushed through the red tape for me.” “I have money, too.” Her uncle tugged his worn wallet from his pocket. “Johnny cashed our social security checks the morning of the fire. I don’t recollect why now, but I put the whole wad in my wallet, not in the bank, and left it there.” Cassandra rummaged through her purse. “That’ll help, Uncle. I have a couple hundred dollars myself. Morey paid us the night before the fire.” “Combined, that’s sufficient to get us a distance from here.” Walter, standing very still, was watching something outside the window. “There’s enough food on the bus to last a month. We have everything we need. We’re almost ready to go. Soon as I do one last thing.” Later that afternoon he announced, “Now we’re ready to go.” They’d cleaned and stocked the motor home and found a niche for everything. Even Snowball had claimed a spot and was asleep on the sofa. Home sweet home. No, taking in the small kitchen and the compact dining area, it wasn’t as nice as their old home, but it would do. It was better than the motel rooms. It was theirs. They’d be together. Outside, the sky threatened rain. Heaven would soon be crying. Again. “For the first time, I’m beginning to feel the lure of the road, the excitement of seeing new faces and places,”

Page 279 Cassandra admitted to Sarah who was cleaning the inside front driving windows. “You know, this might not be so bad. It’ll be different, all right.” “I think it’s going to be fun.” Sarah grinned. “Traveling. Together.” “If we’re allowed to have fun.” Cassandra couldn’t forget why they were leaving and what could be ahead of them. “I’m surprised you’d say that. You never had the wanderlust before. You never wanted to even follow the circus if you married Walter.” “This is different, Cassie. Things have changed. I have to make the best of it. And, truth is, I do like traveling. Always have. It must be the gypsy in my blood. Before, I just didn’t want to leave my house. Now that it’s gone there’s nothing to tie me here. I happily go with my friends. “And I don’t see why we can’t have a little fun along the way. God gave us this beautiful earth, the streams, lakes, and forests to enjoy, so we should enjoy them…while we can. In a few years, America might not be so beautiful.” Sarah only voiced what she was afraid to say, but it made Cassandra sad anyway. “It’s as if we’re going on some great journey.” She sighed. “But we’re never coming back. Yeah, that’s my idea of a fun time.” Sarah said nothing to that, but started scrubbing the sink with cleanser. The girl had this cleaning fixation. Everything had to be spotless. Not a bad roommate to have. The afternoon merged into evening and the motorbus was at last ready to roll. It’d been polished and gassed up and was waiting to take its new owners on the road. Cassandra went to get her aunt and uncle for supper while Sarah and Walter were cooking in the motor home. Cassandra heard her uncle weeping through the closed door. Inside, she found him sitting by Ellie’s bed, holding her hand. Her aunt lay unmoving as shadows filled the room. Cassandra couldn’t see her uncle’s face, but he was trembling

Page 280 with his shoulders hunched over. “Uncle George, what’s the matter?” She made her way towards them hesitantly, an awful understanding dawning on her. She put her hands on her uncle’s shoulders, afraid to look at the woman on the bed. “She’s gone, Cassie. She went peacefully in her sleep. I didn’t even know it until I tried to wake her for dinner.” He turned his face up to her. She’d never seen so much pain in it before, so much grief. Not even after either of the fires that had changed his and Ellie’s lives forever. “Uncle George, what are you talking about?” His mouth had moved, but the words hadn’t made sense. “Ellie’s dead, Cassie.” She went to the bed. The face of the woman under the covers was as white as alabaster, yet her lips were curved up. For the first time in a long time, her aunt was smiling. “She’s with God, Cassie. With her mother and father, her two brothers, and our son, Joseph. She’s happy.” There was sorrow, wrapped in awe, in his voice. “Your son?” Cassandra couldn’t take her eyes off the body in the bed. “Never knew about that, did you? Yes, we had a son. Joey. Our secret grief. He died before he was a year old. Fifty years ago. Ellie loved him so much and never stopped pining for him. So she’s happy now. She’s with him and the others. No more worries. No more pain. No more slowly misplacing her memories or losing, in inches, her mind.” Cassandra’s tears came as she perched on the edge of the bed and took her aunt’s other cold hand in hers. Flashes of Ellie showing her how to bake a blueberry pie when she’d been a child, making shrimp and macaroni for her and her overnight girlfriends; of Ellie beaming at her the night she graduated from high school with honors; and of Ellie comforting her when Cassandra had lost her fiancée raced through her mind. Oh, no. “Oh,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “I begged

Page 281 God to heal her and this is His answer?” “This is His answer. He’s set her free from the illness that’s been robbing her of her individuality and her normal life. He’s taken her home to heaven.” “It wasn’t what I wanted.” She was overcome with guilt, her body chilled. “Yet, it’s what we’ve gotten.” “No, no,” she cried. “It can’t be.” “It’s all right, Cassie. This was what Ellie wanted. She told me so when she first suspected she had Alzheimer’s two years ago. In a way, she was healed. These last few hours she was herself. We were reminiscing about the day we met, our wedding, and the first year of our marriage. Joey. We talked, really talked, for the first time in a long, long while. She laughed. She was so like my old Ellie I was amazed. “I thought she’d been cured and was about to go and tell everyone the good news. I was being selfish. I wanted my old Ellie all to myself. Didn’t want to share her with anyone. “But she knew she was dying. She said so. And we got to say our good-byes…and I thank you for that. She was smiling. Happy. Then she was gone. I still can’t believe it.” Johnny came in the room as she was consoling her uncle. Soon everyone knew her aunt had passed away. The survivors huddled around the body as the evening drifted into the room. The scene, after all that had happened, was sadly dreamlike. Too much had happened in too short a time. Cassandra cried, her arms around her uncle. Johnny was strangely subdued. But Cassandra saw the unshed tears in his eyes. Sarah wept silently, enfolded in Walter’s arms as he stood behind her. Ellie had been like a second mother to her since hers had passed away ten years before. Sarah’s father had died when she’d been fifteen. A young woman, she’d become an orphan. Ellie and George had filled the spaces left empty. She’d loved them.

Page 282 “What do we do now?” Johnny sat by the window with a blank stare on his face. “I guess we call the police,” Cassandra said softly. “They’ll send out a coroner to examine the body and document the death. If they decide, as they will, it’s natural causes they’ll release the body to us and we’ll call a funeral home.” “Then we have a funeral and bury my wife,” her uncle finished in a heartrending voice. “Conner’s Mortuary is where she wanted to be taken when her time came. It’s where all her family has been laid out before her. We both have prepaid burials arranged there.” Cassandra was numb, but remembered what Ellie had wanted concerning her funeral preparations. Oddly enough, a few weeks ago, her aunt had insisted they talk about them. Maybe she’d had a premonition. “I’ll call Father Luke or Father Dave at Holy Family and ask one of them to perform the ceremony. I’d better telephone the motel manager and inform him what’s happened so he doesn’t get upset when the police and the coroner come out.” “After we deal with this,” Walter said, “we need to leave here soon as possible. I’m sorry. Time’s short. All day I’ve had a strong feeling we’re being watched. We’re in danger.” So that was two of them and it sent up the final red flag. Time to leave. “I’ll telephone the police.” Johnny picked up the phone on the nightstand and dialed. His voice hushed, he told them what they needed. As they waited for the coroner they conversed in respectful, hushed voices. “We’ll have a simple ceremony,” her uncle decided. “It’s not as if Ellie and I have any other people here, but all of you. Most of our old friends moved to warmer climates or are dead. It doesn’t matter. Ellie’s in heaven. We’ll never forget or stop loving her. I won’t. Wherever I am. She’ll be in my heart forever until I see her again up there. Won’t be long by my calculations. So what we do with her earthly body doesn’t

Page 283 matter. A brief visitation and the funeral at Holy Family day after tomorrow will do fine. I know Ellie would approve. She wouldn’t want us to endanger ourselves by hanging around here too long. She’d want us to be safe.” “She would.” Cassandra was of the same mind. Her uncle appeared resigned to her aunt’s death though he sat by her side, face emotionless, eyes wet, and held her hand until the coroner arrived. He didn’t say much of anything. Ellie had died by natural causes, the coroner ruled. Her heart had given out. She’d probably felt little or no pain, which her uncle was grateful for. The police, who’d accompanied the coroner, were polite, gave the family their condolences on their loss, filled out their report, and trailed the coroner out the door. Cassandra phoned the mortuary and they picked up the body. When Ellie was gone, her uncle broke down into heartbreaking sobs she couldn’t bear to hear, but forced herself. He needed her. There was no running away. Johnny helped put him to bed as she contacted Father Luke and gave him the bad news. “I’m so sorry, Cassandra,” the priest commiserated. “I’d heard about the fire, but hadn’t known where to reach you afterwards to extend my sympathies. Now Ellie’s dead, too? I’ve known her since she was a young girl and am genuinely sad at her passing. Please accept my sincerest condolences.” Cassandra could hear the compassion in his voice. “Thank you, Father. The mortuary promised Ellie would be ready for viewing tomorrow morning by nine o’clock. She’ll be laid out during the day and we’d like to have the funeral early the following morning. Is that possible?” “It is,” the priest replied. “I have the morning after tomorrow open. Even if I didn’t, I’d rearrange things so I could preside at Ellie’s funeral. She was one of my flock, an old friend, and it’s only fitting I send her into eternity with all the love I had for her in life.” Walter was right about time being short. Cassandra

Page 284 was nervous as she spoke with the priest and made the arrangements. The sensation that someone was watching them grew stronger every hour and beneath that was a deeper escalating foreboding. Something was hunting for them. She knew it, too. They must leave the motel. Sooner rather than later. Father Luke was easy to work with. “Is ten o’clock Friday morning acceptable for the service? If I remember correctly, Ellie has a family plot in the church’s graveyard so we’ll have the burial directly afterwards. Is that okay for you?” Ellie had wanted to be laid to rest there with her parents and son. Cassandra’s family was there, as well. All of them. “Ten o’clock is good. I’ll give the address and details to the mortuary. Thank you, Father.” Walter motioned at her and she covered the phone with a hand to be able to hear what he had to say. “Ask the Father if we could park the motor home behind the church for tomorrow and the next day. We have a generator, so we don’t need an electrical hookup. We carry water, too; though a water source where we could tap in would be appreciated. The church is holy ground. I’m thinking we’ll be safer there than here.” She nodded. Taking her hand off the phone, she posed the question to Father Luke, explained about the RV and how after that night they’d be living in it. “We won’t be staying after the funeral; won’t be in your parking lot more than a day and a half. We’re going on a trip.” “It’s an unusual request,” Father Luke said, “but under the circumstances, being who’s asking and your house having burnt down and all, I’ll say yes. I’ve known your family for a long time, so I’m sure it’ll be acceptable. Park as far in the rear as you can, though, so there’ll be room for the parishioners. I’m sure many will come to pay their last respects to your aunt.” “Thank you, Father.” Cassandra gave Walter the okay sign. “And Cassandra,” the priest went on, “George, you, and Johnny have my deepest condolences for Ellie’s passing. Don’t

Page 285 grieve too much for her. She was a good woman, had a full life of love and her church and she’s in heaven now with our Lord.” Amen to that. Yes. She brooded but didn’t say aloud. Don’t grieve for Ellie. It’s the rest of us down here on earth, with the demons and the apocalyptic future to contend with, we need to feel sorry for. “Thank you, Father. I’ll give my uncle your kind words. Right now he needs time to take it all in. Ellie’s death was a shock. We’ll be in your back yard, so to speak, before tomorrow morning and we’ll be in touch.” She gave him her new cell phone number; Johnny’s, too, in case he needed to talk to them about further preparations. “If you have any other questions concerning the funeral, please call us.” And she hung up. Then everyone, including her uncle, made the sad trip to the funeral home to complete the final arrangements. Aunt Ellie also had a life insurance policy and though the paperwork had burned in the fire, the insurance company had a copy on file. Her uncle would receive Ellie’s full death benefits. The funeral home, honoring the prepaid funeral, would take care of everything. All they had to do was sign some papers. It was almost too easy. For the remains of the evening everyone, except George, sat around the table in Cassandra and Johnny’s motel room in a dismal state. Her uncle had been too upset to do anything but sleep. Exhausted after visiting the funeral home he tossed restlessly behind them in her bed. So much had befallen him in the last three days. She thought she knew how he felt, having lost many people she’d loved. Sleep was a form of escape. So let him sleep. “What do we do now?” Sarah broached the one subject that was on everyone’s mind. “We have the memorial service,” Walter stated the obvious. “Then we get the heck out of town.” He’d also wanted to finish loading up the RV and go to the church’s parking lot

Page 286 after supper. But George had lain down and no one had the heart to rouse him. They’d leave in the morning. “I’m going to get the bullets for my guns blessed after the funeral,” Walter said. “Get in a supply of holy water to take along, too. I wonder if we’d spray holy water over the outside of our motor home if it’d help keep evil away? Put it in some of those empty Windex bottles with the spray top we used up yesterday. What do you think, Cassandra?” “Couldn’t hurt and might help. Let’s do it. Have any idea what you’re going to tell Father Luke about why you want bullets blessed?” She could almost see the priest’s bemused face when given that strange petition. “I’ll think of something.” “We can always,” Johnny’s words were sarcastic, “tell him the truth.” “We might have to,” Walter countered with a straight face. “Because I can’t figure out one way to make the request sound sane.” “Sure, and while we’re at it, we can blab to Father Luke the news about the end of the world and the demons he’ll soon be fending off.” Johnny snorted. “He’s got no sense of humor at all and I bet he’ll love that.” Cassandra listened half-heartedly. All she knew was that she didn’t want to hurt anymore. She wanted to go to bed and end the terrible day. She’d cried so many tears her head hurt and her whole body ached with grief. Ellie was in heaven; Ellie didn’t have to deal with hellish offspring, the deprivations of the end times or any further grief—so why did she feel so awful? Because she would no longer see her aunt, hug her, or talk to her. Not for a while anyway. Pure selfishness on her part, that’s what it was. That’s all it was. Get over it. “I’m so tired,” she muttered to everyone. “I’m going to bed, too.” “All of us should.” Sarah was standing behind Walter, rubbing his shoulders. “We have to get up early. It’ll be a long

Page 287 day.” So they retired to their rooms and their beds with downcast eyes and heavy hearts. As weary as she was, Cassandra couldn’t sleep. There were suspicious noises outside the motel and through the window glints of crimson eyes blinked at her from behind parked cars. The beasts had found them. She wished she already had a spray bottle of holy water or a gun with blessed bullets. She would have liked to try Walter’s suggestion. See if either would harm or kill the buggers. The cross at her throat grew warm. She was protected. It was the others she was concerned about. Waking Johnny, who was sleeping on a pile of blankets on the floor beside her uncle’s bed, she told him to gather their things and be ready to scoot to the motor home when she returned. Walter and Sarah had to be warned. She knocked on their door, careful to scan the parking lot so nothing would sneak up on her. “We have company,” she whispered to a sleepy-eyed Sarah when the door opened. “We need to leave. Now.” “Company?” Then Sarah got it. “Oh.” The woman looked around her into the dark. “You can’t see them. They’re hiding, but they’re out there. More every hour. Something’s calling them here. I think we should all move to the motor home. Be together. Then drive over to the church. Now.” “We’ll pack and be there as quick as we can.” Cassandra returned to her room. She hated waking her uncle, but did, then helped him gather his meager possessions. He was better, more himself. The rest had done him good. “Ellie wouldn’t want me to mourn so for her that I make myself sick. I know she’s someplace where that Alzheimer’s can never torment her again. Where her frail old body can’t torture her any more. So don’t worry about me, Cassie. I’m

Page 288 gonna be okay. “Ellie is still with us, you know. She’ll always be with us. When I think of her now she’s young and happy. As I first knew her. Lovely as a spring morning. I’ll see her again some day soon.” Cassandra was so relieved she put her arms around him. “I know, Uncle George. I feel the same way. But, as you said, she’ll always be with us. We’ll never forget her.” “I’m glad you want me to come along with you. It makes me feel useful again and I haven’t felt like that in so long.” “We wouldn’t leave you behind. You’re family and we need you. Come on, let’s go.” Within a half-hour they were in their new home parked behind the church. There was a friendly debate on who would get what beds. They decided to take turns rotating from the sofa bed to the table area bed to the bedroom in the rear each week. That way it’d be fair. Everyone would share in the comfort of the private bedroom. For the first couple days Uncle George, who deserved to be treated with a little extra kindness, would have the bedroom; Cassandra would bunk on the bed hidden beneath the table and Sarah and Walter had the sofa bed. Her uncle didn’t much care for Sarah and Walter sleeping together. “You officially own the motorbus,” he acceded to Walter. “So I guess my word wouldn’t carry much weight.” “It carries a lot of weight with us. I promise there’ll be no hanky-panky, if that’s what you’re worried about. Sarah and I don’t believe in sex before marriage. Sleeping is all we’ll do in any bed until we are.” “That’s good enough for me.” Johnny slept on the floor in the kitchen on the single sized air mattress they’d bought for emergencies. It was a tight fit, but Johnny was skinny. “I don’t mind, because there’s no way I’m going to sleep in the same bed with my sister. The air mattress will do me just dandy.” “It’s only for a few nights, Johnny,” Cassandra told

Page 289 him. “Uncle George separately using the bedroom is only temporary. A few days. Then you can share it with him.” “I know that. I don’t mind, Sis.” The five of them were asleep in minutes. She was finally satisfied. She hadn’t been able to sleep well in the motel room when she’d been worried about the others. They needed to be together under one roof, in one place, with the beasts skulking around because there was safety in numbers. For now, being all together in the motorbus on church property, holy ground, was that place.

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Chapter Twenty Cassandra, Johnny, Sarah, Walter, and Uncle George Besides the five of them, there were people from the Holy Family congregation at Ellie’s laying out and visitation. A crowd of elderly people milled around reminiscing with George about the times they’d had with Ellie and offered commiseration over the house fire and her unexpected death. There were those in the church who’d loved her; paid homage to her at the end and Cassandra could see it made George proud. Ellie looked younger, with her hair and make-up done, in her new dress. Her angelic face with its smile was more peaceful than Cassandra had seen it in years. George pulled a chair up to his wife’s coffin and sat beside her the entire day. He wouldn’t leave her side. He greeted everyone who came and thanked them personally. It was a lovely funeral mass the following morning in the church Ellie had loved so much. The sun shone for a few brief hours; it was nicer than it’d been in weeks. Afterwards, not many of the old people went to the cemetery and the ones who did didn’t stay long. It was hard to get walkers and wheel chairs down crumbling sidewalks and onto muddy cemetery grass. Cassandra, Johnny, her uncle, Walter, and Sarah saw Ellie laid in the ground and afterwards welcomed any people who accepted the invitation to have coffee and refreshments, small sandwiches and cake, in the RV. Not many did, as it was also impossible to get wheelchairs and walkers into the RV. But a few came who could still walk and for a short while they all sat around fondly remembering Ellie and consoling George.

Page 291 When the last visitor left, and after they said thank you and good-bye to Father Luke, Father Dave, and Father Steve, they revved up the motorbus and drove away. Before the church ceremony, Father Luke had unknowingly blessed cartons of Walter’s bullets when Walter hid them in a box under the water jugs. He let the priest believe the box was filled with just the water and then had him bless the whole thing. Ta da! The priest was none the wiser and it got them exactly what they wanted without having to explain anything other than why they wanted the holy water. “We’re going on a long trip,” Uncle George had told Father Luke, “and I’d feel better if we had a supply of holy water from my old church. For sentimental reasons as much as anything, you know?” And the priest, probably because of George’s delicate state of grief, had carried out their odd request with just a hint of amusement. “You won’t run out of holy water anytime soon, wherever you’re going,” Father Luke had commented flatly. “I can tell you that.” “No,” Uncle George had replied, “we won’t.” In the motor home, as Walter drove away, George sat up in the passenger seat. “Father Luke thinks I’ve gone off the deep end. Thinks losing Ellie is what did it. He was humoring me blessing the water, you know?” “I figured. But we got the stuff blessed and that’s what counts.” Walter had become the designated driver. As a teenager he’d spent summers driving RVs across country to their new owners and in the circus he’d driven the trucks that pulled the trailers. Sooner or later he’d get around to showing the others how to drive it. “It’s easy,” he said. “It drives like a car. All you have to do is practice turning, parking, and backing up. Everyone should learn how to drive it. In case.” They swung by Sarah’s insurance company and picked up the check for the house she’d lost. Another stop at her bank, which had branches across the country, and she’d deposited it, only keeping out enough money for their immediate

Page 292 expenses. “What I’ve got in my purse should take care of us for about a month, depending on how frugal we are and how expensive gas is,” she figured. “There’s more if and when we need it.” Again, Cassandra felt bad. Walter and Sarah were shelling out their money and she hadn’t contributed anything. That would have to change. “Johnny and I will be getting jobs along the way. We’re going to do our share, too,” she insisted. “We’re not keeping tabs, Cassandra,” Walter said. “With what we might have to live through, we’ve got to be in this together from now on. All of us will do whatever we have to do. No keeping track. I mean it.” “I agree. But Johnny and I are going to help soon as we can.” Walter competently handled the steering wheel as they talked. “Uncle George wants to stop by the house, or what’s left of it, on the way out of town. See if there’s anything we can salvage from the ashes. I think he’s looking for keepsakes. Pictures. Mementos. Another metal box where we kept older certificates and papers.” “We can do that, George.” Walter smiled at the old man. “We’re on our way.” Cassandra hated sifting through the ruins of what had once been their home. It brought back awful memories of her childhood fire and gave her unhappy new ones of her uncle weeping, as he fumbled through scorched wood and hunks of stone, seeing their treasures melted and twisted. Seeing the home they’d loved so much now a pile of rubble. Nothing left. However, it was worthwhile. “I found it!” her uncle exclaimed and pulled a singed metal box out of the wreckage. He popped the latch and lifted the lid. “It’s all here—the old letters and financial papers. And miracle of miracles…they seem okay.” He paused for a moment, his face surprised.

Page 293 “Oh, my, but how did this get in here?” He held up a framed picture of Ellie and him taken on their fortieth wedding anniversary, long before she’d become sick, and her sweet blissful face made Cassandra smile. “Last I saw it, it was on our dresser, not in here.” There were tears in his eyes again. “I’ve been praying it made it through the fire somehow, yet knowing it wasn’t likely. God must have saved it for me. Put it in here.” On his knees on the ground, her uncle hugged the picture and smiled forlornly through his tears. “It is a tiny miracle.” She knelt down to help rifle through the other things in the box. “Well, I’ll be. Look, here’s Ellie’s Bible.” Her uncle held up the cherished book that her aunt had gotten as a child for her first communion. “New Testament’s in it, too. She used to write her thoughts, prayers, and private conversations with God on scraps of paper and slip them between the pages; scribble notes on the margins. My, this is so strange. Our picture and the Bible are in here, too. They never were before.” Startled, he shook his head. “I’ve been blessed.” Finding them in the box had really affected him. “I don’t care about anything else. I have what I was looking for. I have my Ellie right here.” He touched the picture and gently caressed the leather cover of the Bible. They found nothing else of importance among the destruction. Cassandra kept her eyes on Mrs. Tyler’s house the whole time. Was Rayner still spying on them? She didn’t see a sign of him or his landlady. She didn’t sense his presence. He wasn’t there. Hopefully, he wasn’t stalking her anymore. He’d been left behind with the rest of her old life. She shivered. Good riddance. Even his saving Sarah and Snowball wasn’t enough to change what he was or sway her opinion of him. Though she’d have a little trouble killing him, as Walter was adamant they had to do from now on, if she came across him again. Could she kill Rayner after he’d saved

Page 294 Sarah and Snowball from the fire? She wasn’t sure. Then they were on the road again, towing Walter’s truck behind the motor home. They’d left the other cars with Father Luke to sell, none of which were worth much, and kept the truck. “It’ll work better for what we’re going to need,” Walter asserted. “It’s good in mud. Rough terrain. The world might become a hardscrabble place soon enough and a sturdy truck that I can fix with my eyes closed could be useful.” So they took it. “Where are we going?” Cassandra had come up front to ask him. “I’m heading for the highway now. You need to give me a destination.” “Me?” “Yes, you.” Walter’s eyes met hers briefly and returned to the road. “You’re the leader, you know. I’ve given you time to catch your breath. Regroup. You can take over now.” Father Manasseh’s voice spoke in Cassandra’s head. Head south through Missouri to a town called Ash Hill near Poplar Bluff. There’s a bar called Jack’s Place on the outskirts of town that can use you and Johnny. Seek someone called Aurora. She waited for more, but that was it. “Go south through Missouri towards Poplar Bluff,” she repeated the instructions. “There’s a town there called Ash Hill we need to get to. Destination: a bar called Jack’s Place.” “See.” Walter smiled. “I knew you had it in you, boss.” “Don’t,” Cassandra pleaded, “call me that.” “Okay, Cassandra.” “Call me Cassie if you want. That’s what my friends call me.” “Okay, Cassie. We’re on our way to Ash Hill. I’ve been there before so I’m familiar with the area.” The odd thing was, it felt good to be on the road in a traveling house with everyone she loved. They were leaving the problems and sorrows of their past lives behind and,

Page 295 Sarah was right, it was an adventure. The biggest adventure she could conceive of. Trouble was it would be full of dangers as well as new experiences. Cassandra hoped she was up to it. She wobbled her way into the dining area, grabbed a cup of coffee from the coffeepot, and plopped down at the table. Her uncle was nursing a cup himself. He’d changed from the black suit they’d bought him yesterday for the funeral into a new pair of jeans and a shirt, but he still looked like a shadow of himself. The misery in his face was fresh, but there was also the beginning of acceptance. Her uncle was a practical man. “I miss Ellie so much,” he said wistfully as she sat down, balancing her cup of coffee so it wouldn’t spill with the movement of the bus, a rhythmic swaying that to her was somehow soothing. His fevered eyes were glued to the scenery speeding by outside the window. Ellie’s Bible and both metal boxes he’d been sorting through were open beside his cup and saucer. “I know, Uncle.” Her hand covered his wrinkled one. “I miss her, too, but her love will be with us as long as we live. We’ll meet someday in heaven as promised. Her courage is with us.” “At least we don’t have to drag her all over the country. Watching her every second. And she won’t get any worse. She was real fearful of that. Of losing herself completely. Well, she’s out of it and I’m glad. We don’t know what’s waiting out here for us, do we?” Well, we sort of do. Cassandra hadn’t told her uncle everything. She hadn’t told him about the beasts trying to kill her. Them. Not yet. The right time hadn’t presented itself. It looked like the right time was getting closer. She’d have to come clean. If something happened, he shouldn’t be caught unprepared. “I know what you’re thinking. I’ve overheard some of your, er, conversations,” her uncle surprised her by revealing. “About these supernatural creatures that have been stalking,

Page 296 attacking, you and Walter. I know what’s going on. Why we packed up and we’re skipping off like a bunch of gypsies. Why we can’t stay in one place too long.” “You know all that?” She had to grin. Of course he knew. “Sure do. Ellie spoke of many things before she died. Said her angel explained a lot of things to her.” “Her angel?” “You know…Father Manasseh?” “Oh, him. I’m so sorry I got you into this, Uncle George. It could get real dangerous, I’m afraid.” “Nonsense. Life wasn’t dangerous before? When I started getting old and having aches and pains I couldn’t get rid of, started taking a pile of pills that made me sicker, and when I first knew Ellie had that Alzheimer’s…that’s when life became treacherous to me. At times, I didn’t think it was a life worth living anymore. At least this new life will mean something. “Besides, it wasn’t you who decided to send troubles and demons to torment us. It wasn’t you who made you what you are. But,” he winked at her and squeezed her hand, “it’s an honor, Cassie, to fight for God. I’m proud of you and Johnny. Ellie was, too, I can tell you that. “I want to help, even if it’s only a little.” His eyes were alive now. “It’s what I need to give my used up life a purpose. I’m excited about it, to tell you the truth. I’m going to be here for the end times, perhaps see Jesus Christ when He comes back again—and I’m going to help you fight evil. And what more can a God-loving man ask for?” “What can you do to fight evil?” She indulged him. He looked small and frail and so old. “Research.” He pointed to the tattered copy of Ellie’s Bible with his fingers. “Among other things. In the last year, when she was well enough, Ellie and I talked often about the end times and what to expect. She left messages for us in this Bible…her advice, guidance…as if she knew she was going to die and we’d need it.” Cassandra didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t seen her

Page 297 uncle so worked up over anything in a long time and couldn’t disappoint him. “I told you we needed you. We can use any help you can give us. Bible interpretation included. We’re in this together.” And she meant it as she kissed him on the cheek. She was just so thankful to still have him. “I’ve been sitting here reading the New Testament and some of the messages Ellie left inside between certain passages. In between spilling my coffee all over the place when Walter there hits a rough patch.” Her uncle chuckled lightly and then flipped over another page with his fingers. “She’s left us instructions on many things. Thanks to Walter we have extra copies of the Bible and the New Testament, too. And I borrowed a few other holy books from Father Luke to study. When I’m done I’ll send them back by mail. So you have any questions about the religious part of this just ask me. I’ll try to give you answers. I aim to be useful.” “If we need something, we’ll ask you.” She was impressed. “Promise.” She could hear Johnny practicing his guitar in the bedroom, could hear Sarah laughing in between melodies about something. People could only be sad for so long. She and Johnny had been relieved that their instruments and equipment had escaped the house fire because they’d been at the Red Carpet. Some tiny voice in her head had made her leave them there the weekend before. Johnny had gone over first thing that morning before Ellie’s funeral to pick them up, quit, and tell Morey their plans. Johnny’s guitar was his friend and as long as he had it he was happy. Sarah came out of the bedroom to join her and her uncle. Johnny moseyed out after her, a funny grin on his face. He kept sending sideway looks at Sarah. “Got big news, you two.” Sarah’s eyes went to Walter up front behind the wheel. He signaled an affirmative flick of his fingers back at her. “Go ahead, sweetheart, you can tell them now.” “Thank goodness. I can’t keep this secret any longer.” She

Page 298 gave them a big smile. “Walter’s asked me to marry him and I said yes. I told Johnny, couldn’t stop myself, and now I’m telling you two. We’ve known for a few days, but because of Ellie’s death we’ve waited to say anything.” “Oh, my lord, you’re getting married!” Cassandra jumped up to embrace her friend, planting her feet apart to minimize the rocking of the motor home. “I’m so happy for you both.” “About time,” Uncle George complained, but was plainly delighted. “Congratulations.” “When?” Cassandra gave Walter a hug, too, careful not to interfere too much with his driving. His expression timid, he twisted his head around. “Under the circumstances, soon as possible. We would have asked Father Luke to perform the marriage, but in respect to Ellie, we didn’t. Not on the same day as the funeral. We thought we’d find a preacher or a Justice of the Peace in our next stop to tie the knot.” “You’ll find a priest or a preacher is what you’ll do.” Her uncle was firm. “Get married the true way in the eyes of God. With what I suspect we’re heading into you’ll need all the blessings you can get.” His face lit up. “Hey, I’ll even give away the bride.” “Okay, a religious ceremony of some kind.” Then Sarah turned to her. “Cassie, I want you to be my maid of honor.” “I’d love to be your maid of honor.” “Johnny,” Walter asked, “would you be my best man?” “Sure will.” Johnny went up front and balanced on the balls of his feet in a crouch next to Walter. “I’m really happy for you guys.” He patted him on the back. Sarah plopped down beside her. She must have caught the melancholy on her face she’d tried to hide. Sarah would be the last one to remind Cassandra of something that could make her more depressed on a day that was already difficult. “You okay?” Sarah whispered. “Should we have waited?” “I’m fine. I’m ecstatic for both of you. You know that. Don’t worry about me.”

Page 299 Sarah knew marriage was a touchy subject around her. Three years before Cassandra had been engaged to marry Ronald Proctor. She’d met him at a club as she and Johnny sang one night and the two had fallen deeply in love. Love at first sight. Yes, it did exist. Ronald, or Ronnie as everyone called him, with his ready laugh and sharp wit, had been well liked. He’d had a generous heart. Tall and handsome with short blond hair, a mustache, and friendly green eyes, he’d been an artist at a St. Louis advertising company. He’d met her that first night and pursued her relentlessly from then on. They’d been kindred spirits in every way. He’d loved her and he’d been good to her. Good for her. They did everything together. They went horseback riding, hiking, and camping. They were just as happy going out to movies as they were watching videos at home or playing penny-ante poker with her family on Saturday nights. She’d practice her music on rainy afternoons at his place as he painted his landscapes. She’d had two of them on her wall, but the fire had taken them. Like fate had taken Ronnie. A week before their wedding, he’d been walking down the street on his lunch hour, a passing car lost control and slammed into him. He’d died on the way to the hospital. She’d never had a chance to say good-bye and that alone haunted her endlessly. For a time, it’d been as if she’d died with him. She’d packed away her memories, her wedding dress, and everything to do with him, except for his pictures on the wall, and hadn’t spoken much about him since. Everything was gone now with the house. Gone like a lot of things she’d cherished in her life. “All this wedding planning, Cassie? I hope it doesn’t bring up too many sad memories for you?” “You mean my doomed wedding and my lost love?” Sarah looked uncomfortable. “You know the last thing I want to do is cause you pain.”

Page 300 She gently patted her friend’s hand. “It’s okay, Sarah. You and Walter have a right to be happy. It’s been a long time since Ronnie died. I’ve made my peace with it. When I think of him now, it hurts, sure, but I also remember the love. I wouldn’t change any of it or begrudge you having that joy. “I’m thrilled for both of you. For all of us really. We haven’t had many good things happen to us lately…and who knows what the future will hold? This is a good thing.” She flashed Sarah a genuine smile. “You know I love a party.” That made Sarah smile back. “Yeah, we’ve had our share of disasters lately, haven’t we? Yet right now, in this moment, I’m happy. I’ve been waiting for a long time for Walter to pop the question and when he did the other night I couldn’t believe it.” “And you’ve kept that secret from me for days?” “It was hard, but things…happened. So we waited. With so little time left to us, Walter says he wants it to be as a man married to the woman he loves. Sweet, huh?” She looked at Walter, smiling. “He doesn’t like us living together—as he puts it—without being hitched. He’s oldfashioned, like Uncle George here.” Her smile grew. “We’re probably being selfish wanting this just after Ellie’s demise and with what’s going on in the world, but what time we have left we want to be together. Really together. Have what bliss we can while we can.” “I don’t blame you. I’d do the same if I loved someone. And you two adore each other. You’re both so lucky. If I didn’t love you both so much I’d be jealous. I’m happy for you. “ “I know that.” Sarah turned to Uncle George. “Sorry we’re doing this so soon after Ellie’s death, but we feel we shouldn’t wait. Things will get tough soon enough and Walter really believes this is what God wants us to do.” Uncle George winked at her. “I think so, too. Being unmarried, it did make me uneasy you two cohabiting together. I’m for it even if Ellie just left us. She’d agree if she were here to tell you herself. If you two have a fraction of the

Page 301 happiness we had you’ll be blessed.” “Thank you. When we get where we’re going we’ll look for someone to marry us. We want it simple.” “But we’ll still have a celebration here afterwards,” Cassandra said. “With decorations, a wedding cake, food, and music. The whole shebang. A real party.” “If you’d like.” Sarah’s expression was blissful. But then she was a woman in love. Why shouldn’t she be? They spent the hours as they drove reminiscing about Ellie, how she’d have loved to be part of their wedding and planning the nuptials. The wedding lifted their spirits. There was even a little soft laughter. Johnny retrieved the cards from his guitar case and the four not driving played pinochle. Leave it to her brother to remember games. He’d asked them to buy cards and board games on their earlier shopping trip to help while away the hours on the road. It’d been a good idea. By suppertime, they’d arrived at Jack’s Place, a bar restaurant on the outskirts of town tucked up against the woods. A nondescript building with a weathered sign and peeling paint, it waited in the middle of a large gravel parking lot. “It’s a hole in the wall,” Uncle George labeled it. “Looks like a rough place.” She and Johnny had played in dozens of such places when they’d first started out singing, but not lately. “Wow, it’s like taking a giant step backwards,” Johnny grumbled. “Sorry…I’m only following orders.” “Well, we’re here,” Walter said to everyone as he parked the bus in front. It was five o’clock and the evening shadows were sneaking in. “What a dive,” Johnny pronounced, stealing a look out the window. “Motorcycles outside. Biker heaven. Dirty windows. Needs a termite inspection. Cassie, you sure this is where we’re supposed to be?”

Page 302 “Yep. Grab your guitar, Brother, and follow me.” To the others, as she picked up her case, she signed off, “We’ll be back in a jiffy. After we get the job singing here.” Johnny complied, but trailing behind her as they got off the RV he asked, “You really expect us to play here? I thought we’d stepped up in the world years ago. Look at this dump. A big wind would blow it down. If we’re lucky.” “I know.” She shrugged, and shifted her guitar case to the other hand. “But, yes unfortunately, it’s where we’re supposed to be to right now. And don’t ask me why, I don’t really know, either. Yet. A little voice in my head told me to come.” Johnny gave her a funny look, but didn’t argue. “Okay.” They entered the tavern and she had to agree with her brother. It was a dump. Inside, it was cramped and dingy. Tables with mismatched chairs and no tablecloths. Cigarette burns in the wood as decorating touches. The ceiling tiles had holes in them and the walls needed paint. In comparison, the Red Carpet was a five-star establishment. At the bar, there were guys dressed as bums drinking. Johnny was gaping at a hand-written menu propped up behind the bar. “My gosh,” he exclaimed behind his hand, “they actually serve food here, too. Yikes. Good thing we have plenty of vittles in the bus. I just saw a huge black bug skitter under that table. Ooh, or maybe it was a rat?” She clenched her teeth and grinned. A fat woman in a grimy apron behind the bar yelled at them, “You two lost, or what?” Cassandra strode towards her. “No.” She laid her guitar case on the counter as the bartender stared Johnny and her up and down. The woman had to be over fifty, looked every minute of it with her unkempt hair and sloppy make-up, but flirted with Johnny as if she were an alluring twenty-yearold. That wistful innocent demeanor, his laughing hazel eyes, and his sexy long hair did it every time. The earring, which made him look rakish, didn’t hurt. Johnny cleverly played along. “Hi, I’m Johnny.”

Page 303 He offered the woman his most charming smile and his hand to caress. It worked. “My sister, Cassandra, here and I are looking for a place to perform our music, Ma’am. We’re wandering musicians. We’ve been playing out since we were teenagers. Do you think the owner of this establishment would be interested?” “Wandering musicians, you don’t say?” “It’s true. We play guitars, sing, and everything. A little comedic repartee thrown in for entertainment measure. We do half covers, classic rock, and oldies, and half original songs.” Johnny presented the woman with another amiable smile. “That I write myself.” They’d left their CDs in the bus. Somewhere. Wherever Johnny had stashed and then forgotten where he put them. Either they traipsed back to fetch them or they had to audition and Cassandra didn’t want to return to the bus without the job locked up. The barmaid grinned again and cocked her head at Johnny. She was missing a tooth in the front. Must be afraid of dentists. Or the bar wasn’t making any money. Or both. “Musicians looking for a job, huh?” Her grin disappeared. “We can’t afford to pay nothing. Sorry.” Thinking quickly, Cassandra countered, “We’ll put out a jar and play for tips then. We’ve done that before.” And they usually did pretty well. “We always bring in a crowd.” The bartender showed her missing tooth again. “Well, that changes things…let’s hear a couple of songs. I’ll let you know what I think.” Cassandra was surprised. “You’re the owner?” “Part owner. Me and my husband, Jack. He’s not here now, but he’ll go along with whatever I say. So…play something for me and I’ll let you know one way or another.” Johnny snuck her an amused look as they got their guitars out, borrowed two stools from the bar, and sat down. They played two of their best cover tunes and one of Johnny’s songs.

Page 304 It was odd playing in a new place with unsavory characters gawking at them as if they were aliens from outer space. But they were professionals and did it anyway. The music didn’t care. It lived in its own world that pulled them into it whenever they played. After the week they’d had, it was so sweet to play and sing again. Cassandra was actually content for a short time. “You two are really good, you know that?” The bartender judged after the clapping stopped. Even the bums at the bar had liked them. They hooted and slapped dirty hands against their blue-jeaned thighs. “Thanks. We know.” Johnny put his guitar in its case and straightened up. “Modest, huh?” The bartender grinned. “We’ve been doing it a long time.” “So we have the job?” Cassandra had to ask. “You got it. Just a tip jar, right? We don’t have to pay you nothing?” The older woman’s eyes were hungry as she saw the possibility of profits. Cassandra produced an empty pickle jar from her purse and waved it at the woman. “Deal. My name’s Ginny.” Ginny thrust her chubby hand out for Johnny to shake for the second time. Almost as an afterthought she tipped her head at Cassandra. “Lucky for you, it’s Friday. We’re dead on the weeknights, but weekends are fairly busy. You two come on back around ten tonight. That’s when the crowd starts arriving.” She chuckled under her breath. “Wait until the word spreads that we have live entertainment. Good, too. In this hick town, that’s rare as a purple rabbit. I’ll get my pals here to start spreading the word. It’s a small town. Everybody knows everybody and everything. The other two beer joints in town will be so jealous they’ll drive by and throw empty beer bottles at us.” Another chuckle. Cassandra looked at the woman. “We’ve traveling and living in an RV, so is it okay if we park it out back for the

Page 305 weekend?” Ginny chewed over that for a moment. “Got no electricity hook up out there.” “We don’t need one,” she confessed, closed her guitar case, and lifted it from the floor. “Our motor home is self-sufficient and has its own electricity. We only need a spot to park and access to a little water. It won’t cost you, except for the water. We’ll be careful just to use what we absolutely need.” “Then okay. Out back anywhere. There’s a water pump at the rear of this building on the left. You’re welcome to use it. See ya at ten.” She continued tending the bar. The way the woman moved, the lackadaisical way she swiped off the counter with the rag reminded Cassandra of Maggie from the Red Carpet. Maggie who was dead now. Like Ronnie. Like Ellie. Like so many others. Cassandra thought of something. “Ginny, you know anyone in town name of Aurora?” “Can’t say I do. I don’t ask for names when I serve ’em a beer or a whiskey. Sorry.” “Thanks anyway.” “Thank you, Ginny,” Johnny echoed sweetly as Cassandra ushered him out the door and aimed him at the bus. “You get the job?” her uncle asked when they climbed into it. “If you can call it that. We’re singing for tips like rank beginners. We start at ten tonight. I have to remember money’s not the only thing we’re here for. We’re looking for someone.” “Hey, we do pretty well with tips,” her brother said. “We should get a bigger jar.” Cassandra laughed. “I’ll look around for one. There’s a roomier pickle jar in the mini-refrigerator that might do nicely. I’ll switch. Somebody’s got to eat some pickles, though, before tonight. We can have sandwiches for supper I guess— with pickles.” She directed Walter to drive to the new parking spot at the rear of the bar.

Page 306 “Cassie, guess what Walter and me did when you two were gone?” Her uncle was perched at the table, Ellie’s open Bible and a pile of paper with scribbling on them spread out around him. “What?” “We sprayed holy water all over the outside of the bus and put up those blessed crosses we got from Father Luke on the outside, too.” “I saw that. It makes the RV look like a throwback to the hippie days or a traveling revival troupe filled with religious fanatics.” Which was kind of true. As they were on the road for God. “But who cares, if it helps keep us safe, right?” “My feelings exactly. And before darkness falls,” Walter added, “I’m going to spray more holy water around us in a twenty-foot circle on the ground, plus salt, and hope it’ll give whoever’s in the bus more protection.” “It couldn’t hurt.” She knew he was thinking of George, Sarah, and Johnny. Walter, as she did, might have some sort of self-protection, but the others didn’t. Better safe than sorry. Sarah was snuggling on the couch with her fiancé. “We waited until you two got back to announce this, but first thing in the morning we’re going to that church we passed coming into town and we’re going to ask one of the Fathers to marry us. Right away if he will. Just a quick simple ceremony. Is that copasetic with everyone?” Everyone cheered. “Party tonight!” Johnny slapped Walter on the back. “Where?” Walter wanted to know. Johnny jabbed his thumb at Jack’s Place framed in the window in front of them. “Where else? We begin playing at ten, but the party will begin long before that.” “Wow.” Cassandra thought out loud. “It just occurred to me. If there’s going to be a wedding, I’d best go into town with you guys tomorrow, find a bakery, and get a cake of some kind. “We’ll go shopping, Sarah. You’ll need a dress. Flowers.

Page 307 There should be rings. I hope this Podunk town has a bakery, a dress shop, and a jeweler.” It was going to be fun planning her friend’s wedding. “I hope so, too. Now that you mention it, a wedding dress would be…nice. Oh, I don’t want anything too fancy. Something I can reuse for dress up. We won’t need fancy clothes, I don’t think, in the world we’re heading into. Maybe we could have some flowers. Not many. “All I want,” Sarah smiled at her fiancé and squeezed up against him, “all we want, is to be married.” “And plain matching gold bands for the rings.” Walter kissed his wife-to-be. Everyone cheerfully planned for the wedding. To Cassandra it almost felt as if they were on vacation. No one talked about the fire, Ellie’s death, or the real reason they were there. Just the wedding mattered and they all seemed to enjoy themselves for a time. Cassandra wondered how long it would last. Around ten o’clock, everyone but Uncle George, who said he was bushed and was going to bed, migrated to Jack’s Place as she and Johnny set up and began playing. Early in the evening, the bar was empty, but as the night progressed people began to trickle in. By twelve o’clock, when Sarah and Walter called it a night and returned to the motor home, there were over fifty people listening to them. Word of their singing had gone out. Most of the faces had beasts hiding behind them. At their second break she informed Johnny, “Now I know one of the reasons we were sent here. This place is lousy with demons.” Johnny complained back, “What are we supposed to do about that?” “I don’t know yet, but I bet we find out pretty soon.” She remembered what Walter had said about killing the beasts. Is that what they were supposed to do? Kill these things? She didn’t know how she was supposed to do that. She silently

Page 308 called for Father Manasseh, but received no answer. The bar was noisy and grew more packed every minute. Ginny said, “I guess the word’s spreading that you’re here.” She was excited with the growing crowd. “Business is fantastic. If it keeps going like this, I’ll have to talk Jack into giving you two ten percent of the take for the night.” That pleased Johnny. It was at the conclusion of their third set, near the end of the gig, when the tip jar was over flowing and the number of beasts coming in was making her extremely nervous, that she glanced up and saw the woman in the corner. She hadn’t been there before. The woman stared at them. Though she was plainly dressed with a mousy face, no jewelry, she had beautiful dark hair past her shoulders. There was this glow around her. Sitting there wringing her hands, looking totally out of place, Cassandra somehow knew she wasn’t a woman trolling for a man. Cassandra thought that at any second she was going to jump up and run off. Her eyes were shiny with fear. The woman could see the beasts around her. Two of the creatures at the table to their right were rowdy, throwing empty beer bottles against the wall, while they eyed the humans among them. It was different than that time at the Red Carpet. Their hatred was palpable. Cassandra could just about read their thoughts. This time, the beasts didn’t have mischief in their eyes…they had murder. “Time to trot out the gospel music,” she said in a stage whisper to Johnny between songs and as their next selection, they launched into Amazing Grace as loud as they could belt it out. The joint cleared out so fast it made the stools spin. After the song, the woman from the corner made her way towards them. She halted in front of Cassandra. “Who are you?” “Cassandra Graystone from St. Louis and this is my brother Johnny. Who are you?”

Page 309 “Aurora Hatching.” “Father Manasseh’s Aurora?” The woman smiled for the first time and it made her pretty. Up close, Cassandra realized, Aurora was a lot older than she’d first thought. Over forty. “That’s me, Manasseh’s Aurora. He said I’d soon meet someone who would help me. I usually, well, never really, go to bars, but I had this overpowering urge to come here tonight. So I did. And I’ve learned to heed my inner voices.” “We all need to heed them. They’re usually right. So… Manasseh said we’d help you?” “Not exactly. He said someone I’d meet soon would help me.” Aurora’s panicky eyes swept the bar around them. Her fingers drummed nervously against her hip. “They were all over this room a few minutes ago. These monsters I keep seeing. Then they all left when you started your last song. You drove them away. I thought it was you I was looking for; now I’m sure.” “They don’t like gospel music.” The other woman stared at her as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “You believe me,” the words escaped from Aurora’s mouth. “You see them, too?” “I do. What did you mean about someone helping you? Is something wrong or is something going to happen?” “Why don’t we take a break,” Johnny budded in, “and you two can sit down and talk?” “Taking a break!” Cassandra shouted to anyone who would listen. There were only about a dozen customers left. All humans. Ginny at the bar shouted back. “Go ahead. The bar’s emptied out anyway.” They found a table with a little more light than the rest and sat down while Johnny visited the men’s room. “You know,” Aurora began in a tentative voice, “everyone around here thinks I’m unhinged.” She twirled a finger in

Page 310 a circle near her ear. “Sometimes I even think I am. I can’t believe you see those monsters, too. Maybe I’m not as nuts as I feared. What a huge relief. “But…I see things that aren’t there. I talk to things that aren’t there.” “So do I. According to Father Manasseh, there are many like us. We hear and see demons.” Aurora gasped and plastered herself against her chair, her fingers clutching the outer edge of her seat. “Oh, my God. Demons? I was afraid that’s what they were, but I just couldn’t accept it. It’s easier to believe I’m going nuts.” Her head slowly tilted back and forth and she mocked herself. “Look, I’m out at a biker bar in the middle of nowhere talking to someone who says she sees demons, too.” The woman’s eyes squeezed closed and her body swayed in the chair as if she were about to faint. “Oh, God. This isn’t happening. I am crazy and you’re just empty air. I’m dreaming all this.” Aurora’s words were spoken so hopelessly they brought back Cassandra’s gut wrenching memories of when she’d doubted her own sanity. Not a good time. “You’re not crazy, Aurora. Johnny and I are here. We’re not your imagination.” “Does Johnny see these demons, too?” “No, my brother doesn’t. But I’ve been seeing strange things for a long time; me and another man, Walter, who we’re traveling with. It’d scare you worse if I told you all I’ve seen.” Cassandra waved her hand in the air for emphasis. “But none of that matters now. We were sent here to find you. Now I know why. We’re supposed to help each other.” “How can anyone help me? Us? If they’re truly demons?” “We can try. I don’t have all the answers, either. We’re new to this, er, reality, too. We’ll do the best we can. You’re not alone anymore.” “That’s all and good. But wait until I tell you the rest. You might not want to help me.”

Page 311 Cassandra saw Johnny waving at her from across the room. It was time to sing again. Her attention returned to Aurora. “Can you stick around for another half hour? We promised Ginny to play until two o’clock unless the place was empty. I really need to tell you some things.” “I can wait. My mother’s watching my kids. I told her I’d be late.” “You have children?” “Two girls. We live with my mother, who’s in a wheelchair and has been ill lately, but the kids are sleeping now. So it’s okay.” “We’ll talk more after closing.” Cassandra went to her stool. They ended the set to a nearly vacant house, though a crowd of young people, mostly human, wandered in twenty minutes before they finished and ordered enough hard liquor to make Ginny dance behind the bar. At the end of the night, Ginny and her, husband, Jack, who’d showed up as the closed sign was being hung out, invited them to perform the rest of the weekend. “Whenever you want to play. It’s up to you. You brought in the business sure enough. Did a bang up job. The crowd, for the most part, liked you.” Ginny did all the talking. Jack, like a mute dummy, stood there and hardly said a word. Grunted once and a while. That was about it. Nothing was said about the mass exodus near the end of the night. The bar had made its money long before that and the ones who’d left had become disruptive anyway. Most likely their leaving had saved Jack and Ginny money. No fist fights. Johnny collected ten percent of the night’s receipts. Their tip jar was stuffed. It made her feel better that she and Johnny at last had something to donate to the expense kitty. “I’m afraid to go out there,” Aurora confessed when they were ready to leave. “The last couple weeks there are always so many of them out there at night waiting for me.” “You’ll be safe with us.” Or Cassandra hoped so. She was

Page 312 acting braver than she felt for Aurora’s benefit. The girl was so frightened. She led the way, guitar case in hand. Johnny and Aurora close behind her. “We’re parked out back,” Johnny said to Aurora. “Not far away at all.” The night was dark, misty, and eerily deadened. They made it to the bus without incident. But Cassandra wasn’t fooled. They weren’t alone. The demons were out there somewhere. Waiting.

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Chapter Twenty-One Cassandra and Aurora Aurora was clearly terrified at what had been happening to her. She couldn’t sit still; couldn’t stop looking through the RV’s dark windows watching for someone or something to reflect back at her in the glass. Cassandra had a hunch about the woman and observed her closely. “Those monsters are everywhere,” Aurora breathed. “I can’t get away from them. Repulsive slimy creatures with their glittering vicious little eyes. Grotesque bodies. And they can do about anything. Run like a racehorse. Jump like a kangaroo. Throw fire. They can read your thoughts. I’ve seen them make people do things they don’t want to do.” Her body shuddered. “Some can even disappear into a puff of smoke…I don’t know where they go. Agh, they torment me so much.” “These creatures you call monsters?” “That’s what I call them because that’s what they are. Walking nightmares.” Cassandra was curious. “You ever see them as part human?” “Sometimes. Then their disguises shift and I see them for what they truly are. Mostly I see them as monsters. They try to hide from me, but they can’t. I see them.” That was different. Cassandra played her hunch and asked, “You been seeing anything else?” “I’ve been having nightmares. Horrendous nightmares.” “About?” “You’ll think I’m a religious crackpot, but they’re all

Page 314 about the end of the world…and this great battle with people and these beautifully shimmering winged beings fighting the monsters. There are other creatures that are more like deformed animals. Some are giants. I think I’m seeing an army of Satan’s devils and their minions. “The worse thing is, the dreams fill me with such desperate terror. The fear is so strong I wake up shaking and throw up. They’ve gotten so bad I’m afraid to sleep.” Which explains the exhaustion in her face. “No wonder you weren’t shocked,” Cassandra remarked, “when I told you Walter and I were seeing things as well.” “When you told me that, for the first time I didn’t feel so alone. What a relief to hear I’m not the only candidate for a padded room. Hey, we all are.” “So, now, Aurora, what’s so urgent? What is it you need help with?” As if seeing devils and having visions about Armageddon weren’t enough. Aurora clasped her trembling hands together before her on the table. “For months now, townspeople have been going missing. More every week. In such a small community, they don’t go unnoticed. Folks are scared. Paranoid.” Aurora ceased talking; her expression went vacant, as she tried to conceal her ragged emotions. It didn’t work. Her eyes and the way her mouth trembled, betrayed her. “And?” Sarah, who’d waited up with Walter and had been drinking hot cocoa when they’d come in, instantly formed a bond with Aurora and had begun to earn her trust. She’d found out that besides having two kids and a sick mother, Aurora worked full time at the local Wal-Mart, taught Sunday school for her church, and her husband had died in a work-related accident a year past. She’d been seeing beasts for months, but, as Sarah had been experiencing, had been having dreams longer. The two dreamers compared their dreams as the five of them spoke in muted voices so as not to wake Uncle George sleeping in the bedroom.

Page 315 When Aurora talked about her husband’s accident the year before, Walter gave Cassandra a knowing glance. She didn’t have to be a mind reader to guess what he was thinking. It wasn’t an accident, but he kept that to himself. So did she. Aurora was freaked out enough. “The monsters are butchering townspeople,” Aurora said to Cassandra. “Taking them from their cars and homes to the woods and killing them. I’ve seen it. I want to stop it, but I don’t know how. I’m afraid. The monsters have so much power.” “The uglies,” Cassandra amended, her eyes sliding towards Walter. “Or beasts. We call them different names, but they’re all just demons.” Aurora closed her eyes. “Demons. It’s difficult to say that word. It brings it home. Demons mean Satan. Means evil.” “Means trouble,” Johnny grunted in a low voice. “They take their victims to the woods?” Cassandra again saw glittering ruby eyes burning behind night leaves and a shiver cooled her skin. Snowball sidled up to her legs and she scooped up the cat to cuddle in her arms. Its purring calmed her. Something to remind her of home. Something normal. As if life was more than catastrophes, death, and running. “The woods around the lake. It’s where the monsters, I mean demons, gather,” Aurora continued. “It’s not far from here. About two miles as a bird flies.” She paused, putting a hand under her chin to prop it up. She closed her eyes for an instant, fighting her weariness. “I tried to tell people and the police what was going on, but they think I’m off my rocker, a malicious troublemaker, or worse. I’ve gone on about it all so much I’ve become a suspect. “I tell them people are being murdered, but they only see disappearances. People leave, people move. It’s a transient society, they say. They don’t want to see the problem because then they’d have to find a solution. And they can’t. “The police haven’t found any bodies. All my harassing has accomplished is now they’re following me everywhere—

Page 316 and my neighbors fear I’m a very sick woman or a serial killer. I think someone followed me here tonight. Hard to tell. Lately, I always feel watched.” “Believe me, I know the feeling.” Cassandra nodded. “Things keep getting worse. Last week, my church turned against me. You’d think that they, of all people, would believe me. Ha! Word of what I’d been saying, the way I’ve been behaving got back to them. They’ve asked me to stop teaching the Sunday school classes because they no longer trust me around their kids. They want me to get…help. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. If I could move away from this accursed town, I would. But I can’t leave my mom, she’s too sick right now, and our home. Mom’s house is paid for. She won’t sell it. It’s her home. And on what I make at Wal-Mart, with two kids, I can’t afford to pay rent somewhere else. “Besides, I have the awful feeling that the monsters are everywhere.” “They are,” Cassandra conceded, “and it’s going to get much worse. The monsters grow stronger and bolder every day. Soon they won’t be all we have to worry about, either.” She and Walter shared with Aurora what they thought they were facing. What Father Manasseh and Walter’s glimmering visitor had foretold about their destinies and what they’d already been through and seen. Aurora rocked her head, her thin body quivering. “Oh, no. You’re telling me what I didn’t want to hear. I was afraid my dreams were true, but I didn’t want to accept it. I’ve read about the end of days. I know the omens. These monsters I’ve been seeing are just the initial wave of the enemy’s army. As a believer, I knew the battle for our souls and the world would come one day. The Antichrist would rule the world for a short time. The messiah would return. I just didn’t think the end of everything would happen in my time on earth. It’s so hard to wrap my head around. Whew.” “You say this gathering of demons in the woods is every

Page 317 week?” Cassandra had known the situation was escalating, but Aurora’s news had been a punch in the face. “When?” “Saturday nights usually. It began a month ago at the lake. That way.” Aurora pointed out the kitchen window towards the west. “More monsters arrive daily. I came across them one night by accident. I saw them murder two people I knew in front of my eyes. Tore them to pieces. It was the most horrific thing I’ve ever witnessed. Oh God! I can’t get it out of my mind.” She softly pounded her hand against her head and moaned. “I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t help them. I froze. Couldn’t do anything. Oh, how they screamed.” Tears slid silently down the woman’s cheeks. Sarah reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. “There wasn’t anything you could have done. Not then. Maybe now. Stop blaming yourself.” Aurora lifted her eyes to them. “I’ll tell you what I believe…the monsters are planning something big. I just know it. It sickens me to think about it.” “Since it’s after three A.M., Saturday is tonight,” Walter said thoughtfully. “We should go to the lake, spy on them, and see if we can learn what they’re up to.” “Do we have to?” Johnny complained. “We have to. It’s what we’re supposed to do even if it terrifies the hell out of us.” “You’re really going to help me?” The look of gratitude on Aurora’s face was enough for Cassandra. They would go into the woods Saturday night. She just wished her stomach would stop churning. “We are,” Cassandra decided for them. “As Walter said, that’s what we’re here for.” “I need to be getting home.” Aurora got up and put her hand on the door latch. “I hate leaving my mom and kids too long at night what with the things I’ve seen.” “You’re concerned for their safety?” Walter was a perceptive man. “Very. I can see those monsters, they don’t like that, and I

Page 318 know I’m being followed. Easy to put two and two together. I’m not safe. My family’s not safe.” “I’ll escort you to your car.” Cassandra came to her feet as the cat jumped to the floor and scurried off to sit guard at the window in the kitchen. There was so much more she had to tell Aurora, but not that night. All in good time. They’d help her first and then tell her everything. If they lived through it. Still grumbling to himself, Johnny got up, too. “I better go along seeing as we’re so close to the demon encampment and all. Two women alone need protecting.” Cassandra threw him an amused look. As if Johnny could protect them. Ha. But for some reason, he wanted to come and she wasn’t about to turn down the company. “I’ll stay here to watch over the others,” Walter offered, though she pondered what he’d do if a horde of beasts attacked the bus. She’d have to ask him about that later. Could be he thought the crosses and the holy water would hold them at bay. She and Johnny walked Aurora to her car, arranged to meet her at the bar again the same time tomorrow night, then watched her drive away. **** A half hour later, Johnny and the others were in bed, but again she couldn’t sleep. She drifted outside for fresh air and to think, which was hard to do inside with Johnny snoring three feet away and Sarah and Walter whispering excitedly on the couch about their wedding. She took out a folding chair, propped it against the bus, and filled her eyes with a sky full of twinkling stars. The night had turned cold, so she wore a jacket and stuck her hands into her pockets. Winter was coming. She could smell it. It was October. Halloween wouldn’t be far off, which somehow was fitting, though Cassandra had always loved Halloween with its Jack-o-lanterns and candy corn. She could eat a whole bag of the stuff with the chocolate tops at one sitting. Piece

Page 319 after piece. She couldn’t stop. But would the stores be able to decorate in orange and black crepe paper; would the kids be able to dress up this Halloween and trick-or-treat; would the world still be untouched enough to allow those innocent rituals? Cassandra didn’t have the answers. Keeping a lookout for unwanted visitors, she felt secure with the others only a metal wall away and her cross talisman around her neck. She never took it off. It’d protect her. What she didn’t know was what was going to happen that night if they discovered an enclave of demons in the woods preparing to go out on a killing spree, which, she had no doubt, was what they would be there for. “How will we stop them?” she asked the night. It said nothing. Father Manasseh had told her that her vocation was to fight, but she didn’t know how to fight those creatures. Who would know? Perhaps there was an instruction manual he could give her. The easy-to-read and follow How to Kill Demons book. Ha, ha. The notion made her chuckle. She shut her eyes as a chilly breeze stroked her face. When she opened them, there was a shadow hovering by a tree about twelve feet away. “Who’s there?” She slowly stood up and inched towards the door. “Manasseh.” Thank God. Her sigh was one of relief. “I’ve been praying you’d show up.” It was one of the reasons she’d been sitting alone outside. “I have questions.” “Ask them.” “How do we kill them?” She launched into it without pussy footing around. Manasseh actually laughed. Thinking about Walter’s angel, she wondered if angels laughed. “You don’t waste time.” “There’s not much to waste, is there?”

Page 320 “No.” “So how do we kill the demons? If I’m to fight them… destroy them…how am I supposed to do that exactly?” “When the time comes, you’ll know how.” “Don’t be so cryptic.” “I’m not trying to be. I’m telling you only what you need to know. Now.” Oh, well, she tried. “And Walter? Can I trust him?” “You can. He’s what you are, a soldier. An ally. You’ll need many for what is ahead.” Cassandra rose and moved towards the figure in the dark. “So he isn’t just here because he loves Sarah?” “Both. Sarah and the others have their parts to play as well. Love is strength. You’ll need as much as you can get.” “All right. Let’s get back to what’s important. I don’t care what you say, you need to tell me how to fight these things. I might have to know here real soon. Like tonight.” “That soon?” Again she thought she saw a wan smile. “Yes, that soon.” She told him about Aurora and the demons at the lake. After listening, he considered her request, solemnly nodded, and produced a sphere of soft light in his hands that reshaped itself into three swords with luminous blades. He laid them against the tree. The metal cooled and faded to dark silver. “Holy water and sacred relics will repel demons,” he said. “Walter’s blessed bullets will wound the lesser ones and their mounts, yet only these swords will kill the strongest of them.” “There are weaker and stronger ones and they have horses?” “The older the demon the stronger it is. The ancient ones are very powerful. And yes, they have mounts. Hellish spawns that are nothing like your human mounts.” Oh, goodie. “And with these swords we can kill these things, right?”

Page 321 “These weapons will destroy them.” Cassandra reached out and claimed one of the swords. It was so heavy she could barely lift it. Then it was as light as a feather. The blade was wickedly sharp and fashioned of a metal that didn’t look like anything she’d ever seen. Its inner light shone like a rainbow as she waved it. The hilt, in the shape of a plain cross, was etched with a delicate lily pattern. It would kill the beasts. The monsters. The demons. It would protect her and those she loved. Cassandra wasn’t much for weapons, but it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. It felt right in her hands as if she’d held it before. Something began to change inside her. Her fear dwindled. She felt stronger. Wow, a magic sword that gave her magical strength. “It’s easy to wield, but only by you and those like you, Cassandra. For others, for the beasts, it is too heavy to lift, or use. It’ll burn them like acid.” “Oh, excellent, custom-made weaponry with hidden bonuses.” Father Manasseh smiled and it occurred to her how handsome he was when he did. “It was made for you.” He touched the second sword. “This one is for Walter.” His fingers slid across the hilt of the third sword. “This one is for Aurora.” He looked at her. “Aurora?” He nodded. “And there will be others.” That got her attention. “Swords or warriors?” “Both.” “How many more?” “Many more. An army.” “Oh.” She didn’t know what else to ask. It was late. She was so tired. Perhaps the sword had put an enchantment on her. Now she could sleep. Her fingers caressed the cross at her neck. “Cassandra, it’s not merely that silver cross that shields you, it’s God.”

Page 322 “You mean I can’t be wounded or die?” Cassandra felt a rush of hope that fled away at the priest’s next words. “God’s warriors, as any mortals under the right circumstances, can perish.” “What are the right circumstances?” “When it’s your time.” They weren’t invincible. Father Manasseh’s form dimmed. He was going. Too soon. “Wait, you never told me how to actually kill them. Do I stick them with the sword in the heart or cut their heads off or—” “Use the sword. It’ll show you the way.” “Wait, I have more questions,” she begged. “Why did Ellie have to die? Are we supposed to have a life besides helping protect the believers and killing these beasts? Will we always be on the run with no home? How much time is there before the Rapture?” “It was Ellie’s time…live your life as best you can while you have it…keep moving, it’s safer…and no one knows but God when the Rapture will come. But it will be soon. Have faith, Cassandra. Congratulate Walter and Sarah on their wedding. Tell them God is pleased…and tell Walter I am the same being he saw in the stone church. My name is Manasseh.” The words floated around her head and swirled away into the night with the angel. So he was an angel. Doggone. She knew an angel. With him gone, she picked up the other two swords and carefully carried them into the bus. Like hers, they became as light as hollow plastic when she held them. Walter was lounging in the RV’s driver’s seat waiting for her. Everyone else was sleeping. “I heard you talking with someone out there. I remember now, his name’s Manasseh, right?” Walter kept his voice low. He didn’t want to wake anyone. “Right.” “I tried peeking out the window, but only saw a bright light a few feet away from you. I couldn’t see the…angel so I

Page 323 couldn’t tell if he was the same one who’d appeared to me.” “He was. Or that’s what he told me. Whoa, I still can’t believe he’s an angel. I mean, I suspected he was but—” She let out a deep breath. “Anyway, he gave us gifts to fight the beasts with tomorrow night.” She pushed the sword she held in her left hand towards him. “This one’s yours, Walter. There’s one for Aurora, too.” Walter’s sword was similar to hers except with a blue hilt and a different engraved design. Dragons. Aurora’s sword, which she laid between the two seats, had a touch of pink mixed in among the carved roses on the handle. Walter crouched forward in his seat, took the dragon sword reverently from her hand, and gestured her to sit in the seat behind him. The nightlight’s faint glow showed her the awe on his face as he cradled the weapon in his arms. “Tell me what our angel had to say.” She liked that. Our angel. And she did. He peered over his shoulder at her, a huge grin on his face. “Oh, boy. So it begins. What I’ve been waiting all my life for.” “You’ve know that long?” “Pretty much. I can tell you now. An angel, perhaps the same one we’re seeing, perhaps not, visited me in the hospital when I had pneumonia. I was about six or seven years old. I nearly died. He told me I had to live so I could fight beside Christ one day. I thought it was a dream.” Walter’s smile became humble. “I never told anyone I saw that angel. Until now.” “So it begins,” she repeated. “Sarah didn’t wait up with you?” She laid her sword in her lap and watched Walter as he examined his as if it was the most extraordinary thing he’d ever beheld. He kept touching it as if he couldn’t believe it was real. “She’s sleeping. She wants to look pretty for the wedding tomorrow.” The wedding tomorrow.

Page 324 The woods by the lake at the end of the night. “I’m sorry that we’ll have to deal with this demon situation on your wedding night, Walter.” She couldn’t believe she’d said that. She did sound like Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The strange thing was that she was beginning to accept her new life more each day. As if her old life was becoming the dream. Heaven help her. “Don’t be.” Walter took the words out of her head. “This is our life now. We do what we have to do when we have to do it. Sarah understands. She’s behind us a hundred percent.” “I’m so happy you two are getting married, though. She loves you. She’s never been happier.” “We love each other and love is a strong armor when you go into battle.” “It is.” She didn’t know about armor. She’d never been in a battle and, other than that skirmish with the beasts at the circus, she’d wager Walter had never been in one, either. Poor them. They were raw recruits. Untried and not completely sure of what they were supposed to do. “Father Manasseh, er, I mean the angel Manasseh sent his congratulations on the wedding. Said God approved.” She smiled, her eyes going to the windows. Everything appeared black out there with the moon hiding. Silent. Too silent. “That’s good to hear.” Walter lifted up from the driver’s seat, balancing the sword. “Now we should put these weapons somewhere safe. Get some sleep. It’s going to be a big day tomorrow.” Yes, in so many ways. “My uncle will be tickled when we say where the swords came from. Wait until I tell him.” Cassandra carefully worked her way through the sleeping people to the pantry outside the bathroom and returned with three towels. She gave one to Walter and they wrapped the swords and tucked them away in the tall cabinet in the hallway. The only place they’d fit. Walter went to bed, trying to be as silent as he could.

Page 325 Stepping gingerly around her brother, who somehow had slept like a hibernating bear through her and Walter’s conversation, she folded the table up against the wall, quietly made her own bed, and within minutes slept. She forced herself not to brood about what might happen Saturday night in the woods. She trusted God knew what he was doing because she sure didn’t. The next morning, the sun was out and the birds were singing. A perfect day for a wedding. She wouldn’t let herself think about anything else. They drove into town, split up to take care of their separate errands, staying in touch with their cell phones like a pack of giddy teenagers, and met at the church at two o’clock. A Father Carlos, who they’d run into by chance in the church’s garden, had consented to perform a wedding ceremony there. He had the time and didn’t seem to mind the short notice. Walter and Sarah had applied for the marriage license in St. Louis before the house fire and the necessary papers had been tucked away in Walter’s truck. It came together so easily. Another little miracle. Sarah, with Cassandra’s help, found a simple flowered dress in pale blue and wore her curly hair up off her neck. She made a lovely bride. All smiles and love-filled eyes. After the ceremony, they returned to the motor home to cook a feast. There’d been a bakery in town that in a few hours had whipped them up a three-tier wedding cake, which they picked up after the ceremony. The townsfolk they dealt with, on hearing they were celebrating a wedding, had been so helpful and kind, though Cassandra had received strange vibes from some of them. They were on edge. Unfocused. But they were all humans. She saw no beasts among them; where were they? Johnny blew the money they’d earned from the bar the night before on thick steaks and all the fixings. Uncle George grilled them with baked potatoes beneath the outside canopy on a barbecue pit they’d found at a Good Will store. Cassandra

Page 326 tossed the salads. It was a magnificent bridal supper. After they ate, Johnny and Cassandra brought out their guitars and the five of them sang, laughed, and rejoiced until the evening. None of them let themselves worry about the coming night and what might happen. The celebration was an excuse not to think about it. “My wedding present to you two,” her uncle professed to the happy couple after supper, “is the bedroom. It’s yours for the next week. I’m only one person. I don’t need a whole room. I know you wanted me to have it because Ellie died, but she’s in heaven and I’m doing fine. Don’t need to be alone; in fact prefer not to be. I can sleep about anywhere so I’ll take the sofa bed.” In the same generous spirit, Sarah and Walter thanked him by accepting his gift. At the end of it, they toasted glasses of champagne and waited for the night. It’d been an exceptionally happy day. Cassandra stored the good memories in her heart. Someday she’d revisit them when she needed a little joy in her life. At quarter to ten, she and Johnny entered Jack’s Place. Sarah, Walter, and Uncle George tagged along to enjoy the performance. It didn’t fool her. They were there to keep an eye on them. She hadn’t wanted them to because the beasts were unpredictable. Her family hadn’t listened, came along anyway, to keep the celebration going. But there weren’t any beasts in the crowd, just humans. So everyone had a good time. Walter accompanied Uncle George back to the bus around eleven. Old people, her uncle reminded them, needed their sleep. Walter trusted that the holy water and crosses on the outside of the bus would protect the occupants, but to be sure he showed him where the guns with the special bullets were hidden. “Call us if you have to,” Walter told him before he left, “and we’ll come running. Our numbers, remember, are on

Page 327 speed dial. First one is Cassandra’s. Second mine.” Aurora showed up at twelve o’clock as arranged dressed in jeans and a worn coat with her dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She looked older, her face lined and her eyes, if possible, more frightened than the night before. On their last break she told them, “I’m ready to do what has to be done.” Cassandra and Johnny completed their final set and sat down with Aurora, Walter, and Sarah as they waited for their share of the night’s take from Jack. The bar was still crowded. People didn’t want to go home. Their fame had spread. It was flattering. “I didn’t see any beasts in the crowd tonight,” Cassandra mentioned to Walter during a break in the noise. “Did you see any?” “Not a one.” “They’re in the woods,” Aurora said. “Tonight’s the gathering. The night people will die. I had a dream last night. I saw the monsters burning, torturing lots of people. I saw them setting fire to the town and wiping us all out.” Sarah touched Aurora’s arm. “Ah, one of your dream gifts is foresight.” “I guess we’re going to have to stop them,” Cassandra murmured. “There must be a way. If they’re scheming to set fires, then why don’t we beat them to the punch? Set the woods on fire or something like that? Flush them out.” “I’m not sure we can,” Aurora said. “Things are changing. In my dream last night, there were these fiercer monsters coming up from hell to join their army, some twice as tall as humans. They breathe fire and break a man’s back with one swipe of their massive arms; devour flesh. Show no mercy. With their thoughts, they force people to do horrible things. They ride these beasts that trample us with hooves, tear at us with sharp poisoned fangs. I saw them transform into anyone or anything they desired to be. Anything. How can we fight that?” “Gasoline might come in handy,” Walter tossed in. “God’s help. We’ve been given weapons, Aurora. Swords. They’re in

Page 328 the motor home. There’s one for you.” Aurora’s laugh wasn’t pretty. “A sword to fight those monsters? I’m not sure bombs would be able to vanquish them.” “Swords,” Cassandra whispered, leaning forward in her chair, “given to us by an angel.” “An angel?” Aurora’s eyes widened. “You haven’t met Manasseh yet? I imagine you will eventually.” “I might have already. Oh, my God, so I’m not the only one who’s seen the beings of light? I thought they might be angels, but wasn’t sure. Oh my.” The woman laughed uneasily, looking around at them dumbstruck. “Seeing evil monsters and now angels. Jeeze, we’re all nutso. Mass hypnosis, ever heard of that? Some mental illnesses make you hear and see things that aren’t really there. Maybe we all have the same one?” “Don’t we wish?” Cassandra rubbed her face with cold fingers. “It’d be easier if we were. We wouldn’t have to fight anything tonight.” She wanted to tell her what Manasseh had said the night before, but they were interrupted by Ginny sashaying over to their table. She had an envelope of money in one hand and presented it to Johnny as if he’d won first prize at some talent contest. “Here’s you kids’ money for the night. It’s even better than last night. Word is getting around about you two. Jack’s doing cartwheels.” Cassandra glanced over at Jack. He was frowning slightly, phone in hand, but he wasn’t doing cartwheels. “Can you two play tomorrow night?” Ginny asked. Before Cassandra could respond, Johnny said okay. She wasn’t sure where they’d be after tonight, but she let it go. It wasn’t as if they had a signed contract. If they didn’t show up Ginny and Jack would be disappointed, but they’d get over it. Ginny turned to Aurora, “Hey, is your name Audrey or Aurora or something like that?”

Page 329 “Aurora.” “Then there’s some crazy woman on the phone for you.” Ginny canted her head towards the bar where Jack was waving a telephone at them. “Says someone’s stolen the children. You better get home pronto.” She left them to do something on the other side of the room. Aurora ran to snatch the phone from Jack’s hand. She screamed into the receiver for a minute or two, dropped it, then stumbled back to the table. “The monsters have taken my babies,” she shrieked. “I have to get them back. I’ve seen what they do to humans. I know where I have to go.” She whirled around to leave, but Walter captured her arm. Aurora nearly fell to her knees at the jolt. “Let me go! I’ve got to find them. Save them. You don’t understand…they’ll kill them!” “Wait, we’re going with you.” Walter came to his feet. “We’ll help. But we need to get our weapons from the bus first. So follow us.” The dread crept around Cassandra’s heart before the anger came. The demons had stolen Aurora’s children. It was a trap. Heartsick, she was reminded of the other dead children in her life who already haunted her. If Aurora’s kids were still alive, they had to save them. She didn’t want the woman to suffer as she had and she didn’t need any more dead children on her conscience. “We’ll find them, I promise,” Cassandra swore, right before the other woman broke down in sobs and Sarah took her into her arms to comfort her. Then, as they all fled the bar, Cassandra prayed she could keep that promise.

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Chapter Twenty-Two Cassandra and Rayner Cassandra and the others followed as Walter ushered Aurora out of the bar towards the bus. Aurora didn’t want to go. She only wanted to run willy-nilly for the woods and save her children. Aurora was strong, but Walter was stronger. He got her to the motor home. “You won’t have a chance without us and we won’t have a chance without weapons and they’re in here. Those creatures don’t cotton much to negotiating.” They retrieved the swords. Walter offered Johnny the loaded rifle. “We were told this could do some damage. It might not kill the strongest of the demons, but it’ll wound them. It’s some protection anyway, John.” “Yeah, some protection. These holy bullets better work.” Sarah wanted to come along, to help, but Walter asked her to stay with Uncle George in the bus. “We can’t leave the old man by himself.” In case we don’t come back wasn’t spoken out loud. Sarah agreed to stay. Walter had unhooked the truck from the rear of the RV the first night outside Jack’s so they could use it that day to go into town. They loaded into it. Aurora gave them directions to the lake. As they were driving to where she was guiding them, Cassandra had the strangest sensation. The narrow country roads were inky and a spider web of mists wreathed the trees. A partial moon above hid its light for minutes at a time as clouds swept across it. One moment, the world was moonlit and the next it was plunged into

Page 331 darkness. It was a strobe light effect that made Cassandra dizzy, but not half as dizzy as the reason they were going into the woods. They were going to walk into a demon’s lair and rescue kidnapped children. God, what were they thinking? They should be high-tailing it the other way. Sitting beside Walter, with Johnny and Aurora in the cramped rear seat, holding a sword in her lap, Cassandra felt the urge to laugh. The situation was that ludicrous. Who did she think she was…a super hero or something? And, heck, comic book heroes weren’t real anyway. Her brother’s face was frozen, his lips tight. It must be worse for him. She’d been seeing and hearing weird things for years, had known something was changing drastically in the world. She’d accepted she was different. She’d had some time to adjust. Johnny must feel like an ordinary person in a world going mad. Looking over at Walter and Aurora, she saw two others who could see what she could see. They weren’t ordinary, either. But they were scared. Well, in any case, she wasn’t alone anymore. How were they supposed to fight fiends from hell with swords? Magical or not, she’d never used a sword before, never shot a gun or tried to kill anything, either. She wasn’t a warrior. She was just a girl who saw strange things. Didn’t mean she had to battle them. Right? What was she doing? Wasn’t it about time to run away? No, they couldn’t do that. Oh, she could tell Walter to turn around. Say she was sorry to Aurora, there’d been a mistake, they weren’t heroes. She could jump out of the car. To keep herself from doing that, she reran the earlier happier events of the evening over and over in her mind. After supper, they’d eaten cake, then she and Walter had tried out the weapons behind the bus. It’d been comical. All she knew of fighting with swords was what she’d seen on

Page 332 television or in the movies. Hercules. Buffy. B sword-anddragon movies. Thrusting, parrying, and attacking looked much easier when someone else was doing it on a thirty-two inch screen. She was horrible at it and kept dropping the sword. She’d swing and—oops—the weapon would slip from her hands and fly away. Walter hadn’t been much better, though he’d known a swordsman from the circus who’d taught him a couple of tricks over the years. He showed them to Cassandra. They’d clomped around with the swords, pretending to be attacking enemies. It felt more like play than a deadly lesson. She found herself giggling until Walter stopped her with a grim smirk. “Pay attention. This could save your life tonight.” And, oh, she really tried. But none of it felt real. She couldn’t stop giggling. Afterwards, when it was time for her and Johnny to get ready to sing at the bar, Walter confirmed, “Boy, do we need lessons.” “You’re telling me. We’re pitiful.” “Sure Manasseh didn’t leave a how-to pamphlet or something?” “Sorry, no. Possibly we’ll get better with time and practice?” “We ain’t got that much time. We can only hope that Manasseh, God, or someone will supernaturally bestow expertise on us in sword fighting when we need it most.” “We can only hope.” As they drove through the woods, the ambience somehow rekindled a long-buried memory of a Halloween years past when her family had been alive. Something about the feel of the spooky woods, the pungent smells of the late fall night, even without the rain, had brought it back to her. That Halloween night, she and Elizabeth, Ben, Ellen, and Johnny had been out treat-or-treating. Jason had been at a friend’s party. Erin, home sick with stomach flu, hadn’t been

Page 333 able to eat their mother’s Halloween chili, and had been heartbroken she couldn’t go out to beg for candy, though Cassandra had offered to share hers. Cassandra had been eight years old. Elizabeth, at sixteen, had come along to look after Ben, fifteen, and the two little ones, Ellen and Johnny, who’d been seven and six. Johnny, dressed as a ghost, kept bumping into buildings and trees because he was clumsy and their mom hadn’t made the eyeholes big enough. God, she’d loved Halloween as a child. Being scared by witches, ghosts, and goblins; unexplained occurrences in the night. How ironic that someday her life would consist of just those entities. Except now that they were real, it wasn’t half as fun. It’d been a typical Halloween, one of those drizzly chilly evenings that got worse as the night wore on. However, that hadn’t stopped the Graystone children from going out. In their family, sweets were not easy to come by. Money, rare as it sometimes was, went for clothes, food, and bills; usually not something as frivolous as candy. So on a night where they could go up to any lighted doorway, knock, and for a song or a little dance collect a chocolate bar or a caramel popcorn ball, nothing but major illness or broken limbs would keep them at home—not dark, cold or rain or invisible beasties in the woods. That’s when she and Johnny first discovered they could get attention by singing together. From their mother, they’d learned two songs and every time a door opened, they’d sing, get praise and goodies. And two entertainers were born. It worked for them. It still did. Cassandra remembered that particular night well because it’d been the last Halloween for them. And it’d been the first time she’d sensed something prowling in the night woods. By the middle of the evening, when the heaviest rain began to fall, their candy bags full, they were on their way

Page 334 home. Taking a short cut through the woods behind their house, Johnny had fallen over something, a limb or a rock, on the ground. His bag of candy split open. As he wailed in imagined pain and the other children scrambled to pick up his spilled booty, the wind and rain turned wild. Eerie sounds of rustling leaves and bodiless whispering rose all around them. Cassandra, the child, focused her eyes on the woods and had seen fiery eyes glaring back at her. She’d thought it was forest animals, yet the overwhelming feeling of panic they’d created in her hadn’t been normal. Her heart had raced and her skin crawled. She’d hurried her brothers and sisters home, petrified that whatever was following would catch up to them. As it turned out, a year later it had. This journey through the woods retrieved memories of that long-ago night more than the night out in the forest at the music festival. Only now she knew what was in the woods and it wasn’t night animals. It was demons. Even back then…it was demons. They’d been stalking her and her family. Why? A shudder rippled up her spine. Don’t think about it now. “Is your mother okay?” Walter was asking Aurora. “Says she is. It’s hard to tell with Mom. She heard windows breaking in the girls’ room and them crying, but by the time she got out of bed, into her wheelchair, down the hall, and into their room, they were gone. She’s never going to forgive herself.” Aurora’s face was pressed against the window, her fingers flattened against the glass, her eyes intent on the night woods around them. Whimpering low in her throat, she sounded like a wounded animal. “My babies…my poor babies. Can’t you drive any faster?” “How old are your girls?” Walter asked in an apparent attempt to steer Aurora’s fears off the abductions by trying to make normal conversation. It didn’t work. “Mary’s twelve. Ruth’s eight.” Despair filled her words,

Page 335 her lips quivered with it. Her body was rigid. “They must be so scared. I can’t believe this is happening. Oh, God, protect them!” She clasped her hands together in prayer, her body rocked back and forth. Aurora wept and Johnny, sitting beside her, soothed her as best he could. “Shh, shh,” he murmured softly, stroking her shoulder. Patting her back. “There now, it’ll be okay.” Pat. Pat. It didn’t take long to get where they were going. They saw the bonfires and heard the bloodcurdling yells of the beasts long before they arrived. The woods were swarming with demons. “There’s got to be hundreds,” Walter rasped in a soft voice. Not that any demon could hear them with the god-awful racket being made. The moon slipped from behind a cloud and whitened the landscape. It helped Walter maneuver the truck, without headlights, into the trees as far as he could go. He parked it. With wide eyes and open mouth, Cassandra stared at the chaos through the windshield. The demons hadn’t spotted them yet. They were too busy boogying and clumping around the fires and doing whatever else they were doing. She didn’t want to know. Up to no good for sure. “What are they doing?” Aurora squinted her eyes trying to make it out. “I don’t know. It looks like they’re huddled around something.” Walter was holding his hands over his ears, grimacing. “Damn! Their god-awful screeching is so loud it’s breaking my eardrums. I wish they’d shut up.” In a disbelieving voice he blurted out, “I see them so clearly tonight. Clearer than I ever have before. Man, are they ugly.” “I don’t see anything,” Johnny snapped. “Don’t hear nothing, neither.” “But you see the fires?” Walter shifted in his seat, leaning up against the steering wheel. “Yeah, I see the fires, but I don’t see anyone or anything ugly dancing around them. Don’t hear any earsplitting noises,

Page 336 neither. What are you guys talking about?” “The demons must cloak themselves even when they don’t think humans are watching,” Cassandra said. “Could be second nature or they’re just cautious tonight. But there are demons out there prancing around the fires, Johnny. You can’t see or hear them, but they’re there. Believe us.” “As I said, I don’t see them now. So how do I fight them?” “Tonight, unless you absolutely have to, you don’t. You remain in the truck,” Walter decreed. “Come up front here and hunker down under the steering wheel and keep the rifle close. Be ready to drive us off if we need a speedy get away when we come hightailing it back with the girls. I’ll leave the keys in the ignition. Escape plans are as important as the fighting. We’ll be in a hurry so we’ll be counting on you.” “I can do that.” There was relief in her brother’s voice. Cassandra wished they’d made him stay with Sarah and her uncle. But it was too late now. She hadn’t thought about him not being able to see what Aurora, Walter, and she could. He was right. He couldn’t fight what he couldn’t see. “Uncle George believes that after the Rapture everyone will be able to see the demons.” Johnny talked when he was scared. “That’ll be fun.” Walter’s eyes looked towards the fires. “So we’ve been told. He said Ellie told him.” Then everyone can be scared witless. “When she was alive, you mean?” Cassandra asked. “No, last night,” Johnny said it so matter-of-factly that it made Cassandra turn and stare at him in the dark. There was a sudden lull in the outside commotion. “Ellie’s dead.” “George says she appeared to him and she’s going to help us. He was real happy about it. Seeing her again that is. I was going to tell you about it, but with all this I forgot.” Oh, more trouble. Now ghosts were appearing to normal people—if the Ellie her uncle was seeing was really a ghost. She could have been one of the enemy pretending to be Ellie.

Page 337 The noises at the fires were still hushed. Not a good sign. Then a scream ripped through the air. A human scream. Walter and Aurora climbed from the truck, their swords in their hands and Cassandra was right behind them. She ran around the truck to join them. Johnny had climbed over the seat to the front and was leaning out the window. Cassandra’s legs trembled as she fought to remain standing. She didn’t have time to react or say anything because Aurora, tired of waiting, raced ahead through the trees towards the bonfires, dragging her sword behind her. Searching for her children. “Gotta go,” Cassandra gasped at her brother. “Hold down the fort. We’ll be back.” She and Walter had to sprint to catch up with the woman. Cassandra grabbed Aurora’s arm. “Slow down, be quieter, we don’t want them to know we’re here until we find out where the girls are.” Coming around in front of the frantic woman, Walter whispered, “She’s right. We have to be careful. Go in with a plan.” Aurora didn’t listen; she shrugged off Cassandra’s hand and Walter’s warning and forged ahead. Cassandra gave her credit for courage, but then it was her children in peril. The moon slid from behind its cloud cover and lit up the night again bright enough to see by. And Cassandra saw the girl. Tiny. Crying. Most likely the younger one, Ruth. She was kneeling before the fire, hands together as if praying, and demons were throwing rocks and sticks at her. Laughing. Cassandra winced. Their laughter, squeals, grunts, and guttural barks, as they tormented the child filled Cassandra with such despair she fought to keep from giving in to it and struggled to keep from fleeing from it. It tainted the night and was sickening to hear. Where was the other girl?

Page 338 The demons huddled around the human child were different heights and hues with spiny legs, fat barreled chests, and over-sized heads. Some were as tall as eight feet and some as short as four. Some had shiny skeletal ebony wings, some had none. Some had extra appendages; half of which she couldn’t see the reason for. But they were all hideous of limb and features. She could smell them from there, too, a musty dead odor akin to rotting meat. Cassandra, as Walter, could see them clearer than she ever had before. It was as if the veil had lifted wholly from her eyes. There was nothing human now about their appearances. They were hurting the child and she hated them more than she’d ever hated anyone or anything. Deeper in the mist she saw other creatures on all fours who vaguely resembled monstrous and misshapen horses, lions, or elephants. The demon mounts Manasseh had spoken of. Could any of them breathe fire or spit acid as Walter said they could? She guessed she’d find out. Some demons were giving orders and others were obeying. Obviously, there was a hierarchy among them and that was startling in itself. They were organized. Aurora, Walter, and she were running now as swiftly as they could, slapping limbs and leaves aside in their rush. They no longer cared if the demons heard them. There was a wrenching and sinking in her stomach. They weren’t going to make it in time. One of the larger fiends, dull ebony in color, approached the child. In its claws was a stone that must have weighed hundreds of pounds. It lifted it above the child’s head and— no! There wasn’t time for strategy, no time for fear. Cassandra and Walter rushed behind Aurora into the horde of demons crowding in around the girl, their swords swinging. Nothing was more important than saving that child. Nothing. Cassandra prayed she knew what she was doing. Her weapon began to glimmer with light. A lightning

Page 339 bolt snaked from the tip of its blade and sliced into first the ebony demon and then arced around to his nearby cronies. The beasts were sliced into pieces, incinerated, or blown into tiny bits. The rock fell harmlessly to the ground a foot away from the child. She’d been wrong. Swords did have power! She peeked over her shoulder as Walter waded in behind her, swinging his weapon as she had done. She felt as if she were in one of her dreams. Moving in slow motion. Wondering if it was real or not. The swords caught fire and soon she and the other two humans were slaying the enemy as if it were the most natural thing they’d ever done. As if they’d been born to it. Exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. It wasn’t easy. They were only three of them against hundreds of the beasts. One slithered through its comrades and knocked Aurora to the ground when she attempted to gather her daughter into her arms. It scratched her across her face before Walter sliced its head clean off. The head flew by Cassandra close enough she could see its ugly sneer. It had four eyes. Ech. Demons encircled her, with more shoving in behind, as she stood guard above Aurora and the child. Another lightning bolt streaked from the foggy skies, ran along her sword’s blade, and exploded into the demons’ midst, frying them into smoking cinders. The demons around them began a mass exodus. Cassandra was astounded with the victory. The creatures couldn’t fight the force of the swords and they scattered. Fled. Crawled, scuttled, rode, or flew away. The ones who continued to fight were exterminated. Soon there was no one left in the woods around the bonfire, but the three adults and the little girl, who was bruised and covered with cuts, crying, but alive. “Monsters tried to eat me, but I said a prayer to God to protect me like you taught me, Mama, and He did. Mary

Page 340 didn’t pray. I told her to. I told her,” the girl kept saying over and over in between sobs to her mother, “but she was too scared.” The girl sees the demons, too. A future soldier? Aurora, kneeling next to her child, sword on the ground by her feet, held her daughter tightly. “Where’s Mary?” she demanded. “The monsters killed her. Oh, Mama...so much blood… Mary screaming…I tried to help…but I couldn’t. They ate her.” Saying the words pushed the girl past some invisible line after what she’d seen and, traumatized, she collapsed in her mother’s embrace, nearly catatonic. Aurora cried out in anguish, cradling her child and weeping for the one she’d lost. Cassandra’s heart grieved for the girl and for the dead one. She grieved for Aurora. How many more mothers would lose their children, daughters lose their mothers or fathers, brothers and sisters; people lose their friends, fathers lose their families in these demon wars? Millions more. Billions. This was only the beginning. Walter bent down, swept Ruth into his arms. “Let’s get out of here before they return with reinforcements.” He led the way, crashing through brambles and tree branches. Cassandra yanked Aurora to her feet. She had to help her along. The woman was trying to be brave, but was keening for her lost child. They were still in danger and they all knew it. By the time they reached the truck, there was a shrieking wall behind them. Growing rapidly louder. Reinforcements had arrived. Cassandra thought of running away. She didn’t want to fight any more that night. Bone-weary and covered in gore she ached to rest, hide away, and forget about cutting demons into pieces. She needed time to process everything that had happened to them.

Page 341 What she’d just had to do wasn’t normal. The fighting lived in her head and tortured her. Yet hearing the bloodthirsty army galloping up behind them, she couldn’t speed up, run away, or hide. None of them could. In a vision, Aurora had seen the town in flames and people dead. They were there to fight and fight they must until the fiends in the woods were destroyed. If the creatures behind them were vanquished the town would be safe. “We’ll take the girl back to the truck,” she shouted at Walter and Aurora, “and then we’ll have to return and keep fighting. We must hurry!” “Where did we leave the truck?” Aurora yelled back. “I can’t see it!” “That way!” Cassandra pointed to the flashing lights through the silhouetted trees. Johnny had known they’d needed a lifeline and was flashing the headlights and beeping the horn. They made it to the vehicle, but no further. The horde caught up with them as Johnny shoved open the door from the inside. Walter dropped the child into the front seat with Johnny, who shut the door, scrunched down in the front with the girl before a ball of fire hit the windshield. It bounced off doing minimal damage. The truck, doused earlier with holy water and painted with white crosses by Uncle George, didn’t explode or catch fire. But the child wailed within and threw herself against the inside door as if she’d lost what was left of her wits. “Don’t let them get me,” she screamed. “Don’t let the monsters get me!” She was going to hurt herself, but Johnny seemed to be doing his best to calm her. Cassandra spun around to fend off her demonic foes. She looked over once and saw Aurora fighting with all the self-righteous rage of a mother defending and avenging her young. Walter, she knew, was fighting for his life and for

Page 342 those he loved. His new wife. His friends. Humanity. There were more beasts than before. Stronger ones. Their faces screwed up into a hellish fury. Their lips bared back showing gore-spattered fangs. Cassandra felt the call of their minds on hers, a steady persistent pull, but somehow resisted their subconscious commands. During the skirmish, she’d turn and catch ephemeral glimpses of tall pale shadows with wings and swords, beside her and her friends, fighting the demons. Angels? Aurora, like Cassandra, was no swordswoman. She clumsily swung the weapon this way and that, but there were so many adversaries coming at them the blade always hit something. The sword did the rest. One touch and the demons retreated or burst into flames. Cassandra and the others were crammed against the truck. Fireballs and claws that came their way sometimes made contact scorching or ripping skin. It never left Cassandra’s mind as she fought that she could be wounded, could die; that she wasn’t immortal. The fight went on for what felt like forever. The hissing and cursing of the demons, the stench of burning flesh, was a nightmare she couldn’t wake from. Demons’ blood was blackish with the consistency of tar. She hated the way it clung to her blade and crept down to make her hands sticky; hated the way her arm and back ached from swinging the sword. The weapon that had once felt so light now weighed a ton. All the countless warriors who’d fought, were wounded, and perished over the centuries were now her brothers and sisters in arms and the connection made her at once proud and sad. She wondered how many of them had fought demons. This was to be her life from now on. Not music, not love and family, but hiding, warfare, and butchering. Fear. Loss. The demons and the killing never seemed to stop. When out of sheer exhaustion, she didn’t think she could lift her weapon one more time or dispatch one more beast, her

Page 343 sword glowed brighter than before. Lightning crackled down from heaven around their heads in a fiery lasso and sent out hundreds of tiny threads that found targets. The results were a huge circle of dead demon corpses that vaporized into ash when they hit the ground. The demons that hadn’t burst into torches turned, barbed tails between their legs, wings singed, and screeching like banshees, vanished into the smoky air. Finally, the night woods were silent. The bonfires had dwindled to embers. Cassandra had no idea how much time had passed. An hour, a week…eternity? Her wristwatch showed it’d only been sixty minutes or so. “We did it!” Walter raised, shook his fist, a triumphant grin on his bleeding, sweaty face. “We did,” Cassandra echoed, digging the tip of her sword down into the ground. Slashes and burns covered their bodies. Their clothes were in tatters. They hadn’t come out of the fray unscathed, but they’d come out alive. Her eyes swept the woods hunting for more of the beasts. She saw none. Well, at least now she knew why she was denied that ordinary life in a white frame house with a husband and a couple of kids she’d so longed for. Why she’d been so restless for so many years. It was her destiny to do this…to fight evil. Full time. Forever. Oh. Great. Drenched in blood, her body throbbed with pain, yet she still somehow felt cleansed and complete. As if all that had come before had been a rehearsal and her real life had finally begun. Sighing, she knew it wouldn’t be an easy one. “You think we got rid of enough of them so the town is out of danger?” she posed to Walter. “I hope so. I lost count of how many we killed. A lot. I’m so tired I can hardly see straight.” He exhaled unevenly, crumpling against the hood of his truck. “If there are no more demons to deal with, let’s get back to the bus. I have a new bride waiting and she’s probably worried sick over what’s

Page 344 become of us.” “Hmmm, now that you mention it, I do recall some sort of wedding or something,” she replied with a fragile smile, using her sword to prop herself up. “You should call her on your cell soon as we get going so she doesn’t worry any more than she has already.” “Good idea. I keep forgetting we have them. I never had a use for one before. It’s neat how useful they are. As my new wife said, it’s time to move into the twenty-first century.” Wiping her filthy hands on her blue jeans, Cassandra straightened up. “I think we just did.” She watched Aurora get into the truck and wrap her arms protectively around her surviving child, still weeping over her older daughter’s death. Johnny raised his head from the seat. Her eyes met his as she got in the back of the truck, keeping her weapon close, before he stared out the windshield into the empty smoking woods. “Wow,” he groaned. “I didn’t recognize you out there, Cassie, wielding that sword like a pro at things I couldn’t see. You were impressive, all right. All three of you were. It was like watching one of those war flicks in four dimensions. Only closer. Except you guys were battling thin air. It was beyond creepy. Wish I could have seen them. Wish I could have seen them die. Wish I could have seen something.” Was it only her who caught the doubt in his voice? To him it must have looked as if all of them were insane. Waving swords around in the air, yelling, and stomping around. No one else there. What must he really think of everything? She was afraid to ask. “Nah, you don’t. It was a mess. See that smoking grass there…there…and there?” Johnny grunted, looking where she pointed. “That’s where some of they died. No hacked up bloodied corpses, though. They disintegrate soon as you kill them.” “Convenient.” Her brother snorted. “Kill them and the invisible demons disappear. No evidence left behind. So no

Page 345 one in the whole world would believe you three just slew an army.” “Unfortunately, no one would, Brother. Yet, believe me, one day you’ll see them and wish you couldn’t again. Seeing them messes with your mind.” She dropped her shoulders. She was so tired. “Let’s go home. I don’t know about you guys, but I need a shower and clean clothes. I can’t stand this demon stink on me another second.” Walter joined her and the others in the truck. Aurora and her little girl moved to the back seat and Johnny stayed up front with Walter. Cassandra wanted to comfort Aurora because with the fighting over, Mary’s death would hit her harder than ever. It must be terrible to lose a child. Cassandra thought about her own mother. It’d been a mercy she hadn’t survived the fire. Having all but two of her children die in it would have shattered her heart for sure. **** A soaking rain began to fall, quenching the last of his brethren’s fires. The wind rose, howling as if it were spreading the news of their defeat. There were no demons left except the one who skulked behind the tree line twenty yards away from the truck. Rayner had been tailing Cassandra and her friends since the house fire; watching them, keeping out of sight. At Ellie’s burial, he’d taken on the pretense of an old man, but had hid from Cassandra behind the parked cars when she’d looked his way or she would have seen him. Ha, he’d never been able to figure out humans’ peculiar death rituals. They carried on, lamented, as if death was something unusual when thousands of humans died all over the planet every hour. Their dying meant nothing. Mortals put on a big show, put dead bodies in boxes, and stuck them into the ground. Did they think they’d grow? He’d never understood any of it. Probably never would. Why did they grieve so over what

Page 346 could never be changed? Dead was dead. Tonight, he’d viewed the battle from a distance, remaining hidden. He’d been stunned at Cassandra’s growing powers. Those swords! And now there were two more humans like her, which astounded him. Brynmor had spoken true. They were soldiers of their god and they did have special powers. Great powers. He couldn’t believe she and her friends had defeated a small army of his kind. Humans and demons were forming the battle line. All out war was a certainty. He’d seen too much to deny it. Again, Brynmor was right. The end of the world was coming. Yet the humans kept surprising him with their resourcefulness and their emerging abilities. Now he could no longer deny that knowing Cassandra had changed him. He’d seen the gatherings of his brethren, their loathing of humanity, their conviction, and the strength of their numbers. So why was he ambivalent about his part in the uprising? He didn’t know. He’d no soft spot for his species, but mortals were supposed to be his sworn enemies. His next meal. He was supposed to despise them. That he didn’t anymore confused him. Was he going mad? Was he contaminated, but didn’t know it? He was a demon and, according to Brynmor, their master was Satan. They must obey him. Yet he didn’t remember Satan and didn’t feel any loyalty to him or his army. So what was wrong with him? Stranger still, for the first time in centuries he wanted to live and to do that, in the coming war, he’d better be on the victor’s side. After what he’d seen tonight he was beginning to doubt that his breed could win as easily as they believed they could. Those swords. Those lightning bolts. The power of Cassandra and her friends. They’d easily cut down the ancient ones as if

Page 347 they’d been nothing stronger than gremlins. He’d seen that for himself. God’s soldiers were more powerful. Wouldn’t Brynmor like to know that? Well, he wouldn’t be the demon to let that imp out of the bag; wasn’t going to tattle anything to any of them. He didn’t much care for his old buddy any more. Not just because Brynmor firebombed Cassandra’s house, which sent her and her allies running, but also because he didn’t like what Brynmor and his groupies were scheming. They wanted to destroy all the humans. How foolish. What would they feed on and what would they live for? Brynmor and the others wanted to obliterate the earth. Ridiculous. Where would he and the other demons live? There were other reasons he didn’t want to fight mortals. After everything he’d seen in recent months, he was beginning to believe there might actually be such things as souls, a heaven, and an all-powerful supreme being leading the other side. A real god. One who could smite down the mightiest of his demon comrades—and possibly overcome the demon king that called himself Satan. Good! Then he’d never have to return to that depressing dark city of his nightmares. Shaking his head, more at a loss than ever over what to do, he slithered into the night. He didn’t want Cassandra to see him and point her sword at him. No, no. That wouldn’t do at all. It might turn him into a pile of cinders, as strong as he was. Life was getting far too fascinating for him to end up like that. He wanted to see what happened after this in the world; like appealing characters in a storybook, he wanted to see what happened next to Cassandra and her band of comrades.

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Chapter Twenty-Three Walter “Let’s go home,” Cassandra said. “Yeah, let’s go home.” Walter had taken Johnny’s place behind the wheel and started the truck. The forest around them was seared and stunk of demon extermination, but the rain had come. It was putting out what fires still smoldered in the woods, covering the burn marks of battle. Walter’s stomach was queasy. He desired nothing other than to get away from the stench and the recent horrors. Go home to Sarah. Who’d make him feel better with her smile and her caresses. The events of the night already were unreal to him as if he’d watched some spooky movie. Now it was over. Except his arms were sore and his cuts stung. He was drained, sweaty, and hungry. Fingers shaking, he could barely dial his cell phone. The terror of what he’d been through and had witnessed had caught up with him. Seeing his distress, Cassandra took the phone from his hand, keyed in the telephone number, and gave it back. He had trouble making his voice work as he spoke to his wife. “We’re okay, honey. Safe. We’re coming home.” Through the rainy night, they retraced their route down the dark country roads to the motor home and, as conquering heroes, received a warm welcome. With her red eyes and puffy face it was easy to see Sarah had been crying, but she was smiling now as she held him close to her. As they cleaned up and doctored their wounds, Johnny

Page 349 caught George and Sarah up on what had transpired in the woods and, in a gentler voice, about the death of Aurora’s other child. George had them kneel in the living room to say prayers that Mary was at peace in heaven. “She’s our first martyr for Jesus, but she won’t be the last,” George told them. “Now let’s thank God for protecting and giving you the victory over evil in your first battle.” “I want to take Ruth home,” Aurora said after the prayers. “My mom must be half crazy with worry. I don’t know how I’m going to tell her about Mary.” “Call her.” Cassandra offered Aurora her cell phone. “Let her know you’re unhurt and on your way. You don’t have to say anything about Mary until you get home.” “Thank you, but no. She’ll know something terrible is wrong the minute she hears my voice. She knows me too well. I can’t tell her what’s happened over the phone. I’ll wait until I get home to do it. It’ll break her heart. “Oh, my God, Mary’s gone.” Her head was in her hands and she cried. When she could speak again, she looked outside. “As much as I want to leave now, it’d be best if I wait to go home until dawn. Is it okay if I stay here a while longer? Sunrise isn’t far off. The monsters don’t like sunlight much.” There was faint light through the windows’ glass. “It’s all right.” Cassandra reassured her. “Of course, you can stay with us until dawn. You’re in no condition right now to drive home anyway. Rest awhile and take some time to calm yourself. How about a cup of hot tea?” Aurora was sobbing again. Inconsolable. “Oh, Mary, I let you down. I didn’t save you. Oh, my God, how could I have let that happen to her?” Johnny put his arms around her and Ruth and regarded his sister with misery in his face. “It’s not your fault, Aurora,” Cassandra said. “You wanted to save her, but it was too late. You couldn’t. But you saved

Page 350 Ruth. She’s alive because of you. Don’t forget that. And Mary’s with God. A little early, but she’s out of harm’s way forever. She won’t be afraid again or have to suffer. She’s at peace. Never forget that.” “I’m trying. It doesn’t help. I loved her. We loved her and we’ll miss her. She was only twelve years old, Cassandra. She was my child. There’s not even a body I can decently bury. They ate her. Without one there won’t be a grave or a headstone in a graveyard where I can go to mourn her.” “We can have a memorial service here for her whenever you want,” Cassandra offered. “You don’t need a grave site to mourn because you can grieve for her anywhere. She’ll live in heaven and in your heart always. Which won’t be long if the end comes as soon as we suspect it will. You’ll be with Mary soon enough.” They let Aurora talk about Mary until dawn brightened the dark. She needed to vent her sorrow, needed time to accept what had happened. The least they could do was give it to her and listen. Walter could almost feel the woman’s anguish. In the short time he’d known her, like Cassandra, he’d formed a special bond with her, for in many ways they were alike. They saw the same apparitions. Shared the same destiny. The atrocities of the night had been too much for Ruth. She’d fallen into a coma-like sleep and nothing could rouse her. “Maybe I should take her to a doctor?” Aurora fretted. “No, let her rest. She just might need sleep,” was Walter’s sincere diagnosis. “If you take her to a doctor, they’re going to ask questions. How will you answer them?” “You’re right. If Ruth tells them what really happened they won’t believe her. They might want to keep her for observation. Say she’s crazy. No, I can’t allow that.” Aurora sighed. She tucked a blanket around the sleeping girl in the corner of the sofa. She hadn’t let her out of her sight for even a moment since they’d come back.

Page 351 “What do I do now?” Aurora wanted to know when her tears and words had run out. She looked twenty years older than she had when she’d come into Jack’s Place earlier that night. Her daughter’s death and what she’d seen and done in the woods had aged her even more. “I can’t just go back to Wal-Mart tomorrow morning, in three hours actually, and act as if nothing’s changed. The world hasn’t collapsed yet, hasn’t stopped being what it is and I still have bills to pay, groceries to buy. I still have one child and a sick mother to take care of. “But Mary’s dead. My child’s dead. She’s gone and there’s no body. People will notice sooner or later she’s gone. They’ll want to know what happened to her. “I should call the police, but what do I tell them…that demons from hell ran off with my two kids, murdered one of them? But that’s okay because I’m one of God’s soldiers and I spent last night killing the damn monsters that did it and, hey, just wait, that’s nothing, it’s going to get a lot worse. The end is coming. Then all hell will really break loose. There’ll be rioting, slaughtering in the streets and the world, as we know it, will be gone forever. “I tell them that, they’ll put me in a padded cell right next to Ruth. At least we’ll be together.” Then she thought of something else. “Oh, my god. What do I tell people about Mary not being here anymore?” Fresh tears gathered in the corner of Aurora’s eyes and flowed down her cheeks. “What do I do now?” she asked urgently. Cassandra was gentle with her, seeing how much she was hurting. “You could tell people she’s away visiting for a time at an aunt’s house somewhere. In a little while, no one’s going to think anything is too strange. Things are going to change here real soon and no one will care.” “That’ll explain Mary’s disappearance, but won’t help me. In a few hours, I have to resume my life and act normal. That’s impossible now.” Lingering tears tracked down Aurora’s face. “You could come with us,” Walter suggested and got nods from everyone. “We’ll squeeze you two in somehow.”

Page 352 Walter noted that Johnny’s expression was hopeful, but he knew what Aurora was going to say before she said it. “That’s generous of you all, but I can’t leave here. My mother is very sick. She can’t walk, doesn’t remember to take her pills. The doctors say she doesn’t have long to live. I can’t leave her and I can’t drag Ruth around the country so I can kill demons. Putting her in even greater danger every minute. I’m grateful for the offer, but I can’t go.” Cassandra uttered, “Yet.” “Yet?” Aurora didn’t understand. Walter explained. “Aurora, the time’s coming when it’ll be too dangerous for you to be on your own. We’ll need to stick together. As Cassie said, the world’s going to change sooner than you think.” “You know more than me. How soon?” It was George who answered that one. “By the signs, my calculations, and what my wife tells me, soon. Civilization will start breaking down quickly in the near future. The world will plunge into chaos. No jobs, no anything, but trying to stay alive. “The earthly powers will decide one of the problems is us, the believers, and we’ll be hounded. Persecuted. Hunted. We’ll be fugitives who’ll have to go into hiding. You know all of this, Aurora, being a Bible teacher and all.” “I do. It just sounds worse when you know it’s going to become our reality.” “It’s real all right. Ellie says it won’t be pretty.” Aurora looked at George. “I thought your wife was dead?” “She is. But that woman loves me. I can’t get rid of her.” Cassandra put her hands up. “That’s another story we’ll talk about another time.” “So,” Aurora went on, her puzzled eyes on George, “we only have what…months…until the bottom drops out?” She gazed at her sleeping daughter. There was a swath of blood on the girl’s cheek. “Or less.” George gave her the bad news.

Page 353 Aurora dropped her head. “I’ll take what normal I can get until then. I wish I could come with you today, but I have to stay. You’ve saved the town and I’m so grateful…and for any time I have left here in my life. Words aren’t enough, I know, but thank you.” She lifted her head. Her eyes were dry for the first time since she’d discovered the murder of her child. “You don’t need to thank us. We all fought,” Cassandra reminded her. “You fought as hard as we did. You’re one of us now.” Walter felt a stirring of pride. “We’re all friends. Brothers in arms,” he said. Cassandra handed Aurora a piece of paper with their cell numbers on it. “If you need us, or just need to talk, or when it’s time…call us. We’ll come and get you. All of you. Wherever you are. Call. We’ll come.” Aurora wrote her home telephone number on the bottom of the paper, tore it off, and gave it to Cassandra. “You promise?” “We promise.” Cassandra embraced her. “You’re one of us. Family. And this isn’t good-bye yet. We’re going to stick around for a bit, if we can, to be sure the beasts have gone. And as long as we’re here, you’re always welcome to come by and visit us anytime you need company or to talk. Bring Ruth and your mother, too.” “Thanks. Except Mom’s usually too shaky to leave the house. She doesn’t like going anywhere except to see the doctors. And…there’s no way a wheelchair could get in this motor home. No lift. No room to maneuver. Speaking of my mother, I’ve left her alone too long, not knowing what’s happened, already. I have to go home.” “Don’t forget to call us,” Cassandra reminded her. “We might even drive over and pay you a visit. Keep in touch.” “I will.” He and Cassandra walked Aurora to her car. Johnny put a sleeping Ruth in the seat beside her mother. “Take care,” Walter spoke to Aurora through the open car

Page 354 window. Morning had come but, as in the last few weeks, the light had the paleness of a dying sun. The air was humming; full of dire secrets as if it knew something apocalyptic was on its way. “Don’t forget, call us if you need to. We’ll be here, as Cassie says, for a bit longer.” “I will. I think, Walter, as you so generously offered, I should have some fencing lessons.” Without another word, Aurora cranked up her window and drove away. She was crying so hard he wondered how she could even see the road. The rest of them returned to the bus to get some sleep. It would be a long day and following night waiting to see if they’d chased away all the beasts or not. Waiting to see if it was safe. **** Cassandra was bone-tired, but had trouble sleeping anyway, though Walter pulled all the curtains in the bus over the windows so it’d be dark. She moped over the dead child and how Aurora and her mother must be feeling. Thinking about Mary and Ruth, she let her eyes close and listened to the soft breathing of those sleeping around her. How many of these loved ones would she lose before this was over? She thought about the Rapture and envied the ones who would go then. Right now escaping to heaven sounded real good to her. Shame she wouldn’t be one of them. “Ellie?” she whispered from her pillow. “Are you here somewhere?” No answer. Being fickle as she’d been in life, Cassandra decided. She’d answer in her own time—if her aunt’s ghost were even with them. How could Cassandra trust what her uncle was seeing? It could be a demon posing as Ellie. Her uncle hadn’t seen Rayner for what he was, so he could be fooled. That would be very bad. Best not to think about that. It could just be her uncle’s grief, his wishful longing. She

Page 355 didn’t want to think about that, either. Instead, she thought about how good it would be to speak to her aunt. Aunt Ellie always could make sense of things when no one else could, or she could before her illness anyway. As a spirit, Ellie wouldn’t have Alzheimer’s any longer. For Cassandra to see her healthy and herself again would be like Christmas morning. She prayed for her aunt. Prayed for Ruth, Mary, and Aurora. Prayed for all of them. Manasseh, are you listening…what do we do now? Nothing. Silence. Well, she’d tried. Neither Ellie nor Manasseh was hanging around. She was on the verge of sleep when she got her answer. Cassandra, you cannot remain where you are. Your enemies are coming for you. You have three days, perhaps less, and their army will be here. There will be too many to battle this time, for you have not come into your full powers. You haven’t allied with enough soldiers to be able to win. You must flee. Cassandra asked in her mind: W hat about Aurora, her child, and mother? Don’t worry, I’ll guard over them. You’ll see them again. Though her mother will not live long. Now rest. You fought well tonight and God is proud of all of you. So sleep. You’ll need strength for the days to come. And she slept peacefully with no nightmares or worries. Lord knew she needed it.

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Chapter Twenty-Four Cassandra When she woke, it was after six o’clock in the evening. Most of the others had been up for hours. Sarah was in the kitchen making scrambled eggs. The aroma of coffee filled the bus. Everything so normal it made her smile. Snowball was curled around her neck, the way the cat always slept with her, and Cassandra uncurled her before she sat up. Cassandra was refreshed, but stiff. Amazingly, her cuts and burns were healed. It must be another side effect of what she was becoming. It would come in handy with all the fighting ahead of them. She should have been happy about that, but it only made her sad. Manasseh’s message returned to her and her smile faded. They didn’t have a lot of time. She reluctantly got up from the bed. Over a supper that was really more of a breakfast she let the others in on what Manasseh had revealed to her. “So…they’re coming after us again in numbers we can’t beat right now, huh?” Walter buttered his toast casually as if the information didn’t upset him. His wounds had mended, disappeared, too, and he was feeling pretty good, he said. His sunny nature had been restored. “I think we have three days to get out of here. Something like that. Understanding the message is a little tricky. Manasseh was…ambiguous.” “Angels don’t have to be clear.” Uncle George smiled. “Mysterious, but not clear.”

Page 357 “So, we try to outrun them?” Sarah met her husband’s eyes as they took each other’s hands. “We should fight. That’s what we’re supposed to do.” Walter’s mouth frowned yet there was nothing but love in his face for the woman holding his hand. He pulled Sarah closer and laid a soft kiss on her lips. “But we won’t fight,” Cassandra said firmly, “because Manasseh said we shouldn’t. Not yet. We must listen to him. We retreat until we’re ready—until we’re stronger.” “Always listen to an angel.” George was bobbing his head. “They know best.” “What if we’re attacked? Do we fight back then?” Walter wanted to know. “I would say so.” Cassandra bent down to pet Snowball, who was wanting attention and food. Mostly food. “If we have no choice.” “Talking about fighting,” he said, “would you want to practice with the swords after our meal? Since we have time before we have to bug out.” “It couldn’t hurt,” she agreed. “We need the practice. Last night we got cut up too much for my liking.” As if more practice was actually going to help. What they needed was instructions from an expert. Walter said he hadn’t learned enough from his friend to make a real difference. She cringed every time she thought of them out there in the woods swinging those swords around, pretending to know what they were doing. Oh, well. They were still alive. That was something. Johnny gobbled down two plates of eggs and was on his third piece of toast. “Here’s a question, Sis. We still singing at Jack’s tonight? It’s Sunday and Ginny says we should have a good crowd. If we have the time, we could use the money, especially if we only have months or weeks left to stock up supplies before the bottom drops out.” It was a legitimate concern, so Cassandra didn’t think about it long. “I guess we can play at Jack’s tonight. As long

Page 358 as we’re here, we might as well. You’re right about gathering supplies when they’re still available. But, Walter,” she nodded at him, “should stay here with Sarah and Uncle George. All of you keep your heads down and your ears and eyes open in case our enemies get here sooner than three days. We can’t take any chances.” “I can do that,” Walter affirmed. “It’ll give me time with my lovely wife here.” He kissed Sarah again in front of everyone, a long kiss, amidst their good-natured teasing. After the meal, Cassandra put a telephone call into Aurora. No one picked up. She left a message. “Aurora, more trouble’s on the way. Tell you about it when you return this call. Johnny and I are singing at Jack’s tonight so if you don’t call back by the time we get off work, I’ll try again.” She was worried about the woman and ended up calling two more times before they began singing that night at ten. Still no answer. Jack’s bar was packed. It was as if the community somehow knew the beasts in the woods were gone and no one else was going to die. The turnout was gratifying and helped her to forget the world falling apart outside the smoky windows. Best of all, there wasn’t one demon in the crowd. Cassandra had about forgotten what it was like to have their singing and playing appreciated by a fully human audience. It could have been a night like any other night before the beasts had come into their lives. So the applause was twice as sweet. Their tip jar overflowed. The take from the house was the largest yet. After the past night they’d had, making music helped to cure her ragged nerves. She caught Johnny smiling almost like in the old days. Those days that now felt as if they were from another life. She wanted to cling to the carefree moments as long as she could. At the end of their final set, Jack and Ginny asked Johnny and Cassandra to stay on at the bar. Every night, if they wanted, except Monday because they were closed on Mondays. Jack offered them fifteen percent of the take and

Page 359 all the pickle jars they could fill. It was tempting, but she knew they couldn’t stay. “Thank you for asking, but we have to be moving on. We have other…commitments. Sorry,” Cassandra regretfully said. “Tonight’s got to be our last night.” “Ah, what a shame. Everyone in town’s been talking about you two,” Ginny had tried flattering them. “Saying how good you are. How beautiful your voices and original songs are. Our business has been booming. You think you might come back this way again some day?” “We might. We’ll call you if we do.” It’d been nice having cash in her pocket again, but at the end of the night Cassandra and Johnny went out the door without a look behind them. Good-bye Jack’s Place. Hello road. After they got off, everyone but her Uncle George sat around and talked later into the night; jumped every time they heard a noise outside. Cassandra called Aurora to leave a fourth message because they hadn’t heard from her. “If she doesn’t call us by morning,” Cassandra said, “we need to go looking for her. I’m getting really worried. Just a feeling I have.” “All right. See you in the daylight, then. You know it’s still my honeymoon.” Walter moved towards the bedroom where Sarah was waiting for him. They were really quiet, though. Cassandra didn’t hear a peep from their room all night. Good insulation. She lay in bed trying to ignore her uncle’s snoring and thinking that not sleeping was getting to be a habit. Was that another side affect of her new identity? Perhaps. She slipped on a jacket and ventured outside into the darkness, her sword in hand, and Snowball trailing behind. If she’d learned one thing the last few days it was to be prepared and to be armed at all times. She’d better get used to it. If she wanted to survive, this was the way it had to be from now on. And she did want to survive. If she couldn’t go in the

Page 360 Rapture, she wanted to be around to fight beside Christ in his army during Armageddon. Now that would be something. The October night was dwindling away and its predawn breezes had a biting coldness. A heavy fog, at least four feet thick, swirled on the ground like thick cotton candy. She watched it for a long time as it shifted and crept about. A living thing. Perched on the bottom step leading into the motor home, she listened to the night and tried to pull solace from it. The air felt so sweet on her face. Smelled so clean. Snowball jumped into her lap, purring, enjoying the night and the fresh air, too. The cat stuck close to her, not wandering off as she would have done in the old days. It was content to sit in its mistress’s lap and be petted. Cassandra wanted so badly to go pray for guidance in a church somewhere, but now of all times she couldn’t leave the others. They had to stick together. She had to protect them. Sensing something nearby, Snowball hissed and threw itself at the door behind her. Cassandra reached a hand back to let the cat back in. So when the figure came out of the mist towards her, she wasn’t taken completely by surprise. Snowball had alerted her. Her sword came up as she came to her feet. “Who’s there?” “Rayner.” There was a compliant tone in his voice. Her shoulders relaxed, but not her attention. If the demon had wanted to harm her he wouldn’t have announced himself. “What are you doing here…you’ve been following us again… what in the hell do you want?” He laughed, which took her off guard because it sounded so human. She couldn’t make out the details of his appearance, but he no longer looked like a man to her. He was taller and darker and his eyes gleamed like tiny red moons in his face under what looked like horns. Either he’d dropped his human pretense or her vision had become truer as the war came closer. “Now what sort of greeting is that, Cassie?” he tsked-

Page 361 tsked. “Don’t call me that,” she mouthed sharply. “You’re no friend of mine.” “You’re so thankless after what I’ve done for you, Cassie.” He stressed her name again softly, frowning. “But, truth is, I only came to warn you that a great force is gathering, larger than the one you fought last night, and will come for you soon. Some of the oldest and strongest of my kindred from below have been summoned to kill you and your friends. “You’re the talk of the demon world.” He chuckled wickedly. Oh, great, we’re finally famous. Not the way we wanted to be, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers. Something her mother used to say all the time. A flick of a tail. A tail. She thought she saw thin wings unfolding behind his body, and then folding back. He was more imposing as a demon than as a man. “I know about the force gathering and coming for us.” “Oh. How do you—?” She cut him off. “My angel told me.” She wanted to let him know she wasn’t unprotected. He could go back to his brothers and tell them; make them think twice about attacking again. “You have an angel?” There was unexpected awe in his voice that took her off guard again. “You’ve seen a real angel? They actually exist? Oh, my. The players are in place all right.” “Of course angels exist.” She hadn’t believed in them herself until recently, but she wasn’t about to let him know that. “He’s my guardian, stands by my side, and guards over me.” “Is he here now?” “Well…not at the moment. But he’d come lickety-split if I call him.” “Oh, my.” “I imagine,” she said, “there’ll be millions of them fighting with us in the coming war with your kind. And, of course, then we’ll win.”

Page 362 “Oh, my.” Rayner didn’t speak for a minute or two and then his words were somber. “I really came to give you another warning. There is this ancient demon. You’ll know him by his crimson skin and all the diamond rings and necklaces he wears. Loves the shiny; has a tendency towards the dramatic. He’s seven feet tall and has a wingspan of fifteen. His name is Brynmor. Remember that. To own his name gives you power over him. Not much, but some. “If you meet him in battle, you must be very careful. He’ll lie, do whatever he can to deceive, trick you. Don’t believe a word he says. He has vast powers the like you haven’t seen yet. I hear he’s vowed to kill you. Oh, and keep to his left, for he is his weakest from that direction…and strike him on that side. “Lastly, and most importantly, if you can, you must take his head with that splendid sword you have there. It’s the only way to defeat him.” Cassandra glared at him. Her weapon, when she moved, pulsated with a low level shimmer. As if it was whispering to her. I’m ready. Anytime you are. “Nice sword by the way. It’s all glowy and everything. It must have special powers, huh?” Sighing out loud, she gave up. “How did you find us?” “As you guessed, I’ve been following you.” “Why?” “I told you…oh, I see. Why am I obsessed with you? You intrigue me, and—” “And what?” She interrupted, unable to keep the anger out of her voice. After last night she knew who her enemy was—and it was Rayner and his demon cronies. Every last one of them. No exceptions. They were all evil. He was evil. She didn’t trust him any further than she would have trusted an intelligent scorpion nestled at her feet. “I don’t know.” A moan. “I have this need to see, to be around you. A need I’ve never had before. Ever. It mystifies

Page 363 me. I’ve questions that I think only you can answer. That’s for another time. You must believe a great army is coming. Now. You’re in grave danger.” “Again, why are warning me?” “I’m concerned about you and your friends. When I heard about this new assault against you, I had to come. I saw you sitting out here alone…and well, what can I say? I’m blabbing everything I know to you. Some enemy, huh?” “For crying out loud,” she muttered to herself in disgust. “How do I get rid of this pet demon of mine?” He didn’t react, but paused, watching her like a lovesick wretch. “You were magnificent last night, Cassie, when you and your comrades were annihilating my brethren. Magnificent! I have never seen anything like it in all my centuries on earth and I’m very old.” “You don’t hate me for obliterating your demon friends?” “They aren’t my friends. I’ve told you that. I don’t know them. I don’t care to know them. Besides, you were only trying to stay alive.” Cassandra stared at the demon before her. Was he for real or was he trying to mislead her? Were there other demons behind him creeping around in the dark? She didn’t think so. On the other hand, how could she believe he admired her and was worried about her? What was that about? She almost felt sorry for him. Poor confused beast. Then the memory of the confrontation of the night before, Aurora’s grief over the murdering of her child and what was to come chased that weakness away. She raised her sword, stepping towards the intruder. He stood his ground. Which for some strange reason made her think more of him. What did he want from her anyway? He was a demon, for Christ sake. They couldn’t be boyfriend and girlfriend. Just the though made her sick to her stomach. He’d been lurking around them since before the house

Page 364 fire and could have murdered her or her family anytime. She didn’t want him to see her confusion. “You were spying on us last night in the woods, weren’t you?” “I was.” “I should cut you down here, now, where you stand,” she spat. “No matter what you do or say, you’re a demon and I’m a human. Enemies.” The sword had a life of its own; just being near him made her want to thrust it into his hell-grown flesh. He was up to something. What if he were a spy for the other side? She should kill him. The world would be a better place without him and they’d be safer without him chasing them all over the country. She was sick of his games. His voice, filled with desolation, stopped her. “Have I not redeemed myself in your eyes? After I saved your furry little animal and your friend, you would kill me? After I only wanted to help you and those you love, you would kill me? After I’ve risked great harm to myself to warn you, you’d kill me?” Pawing the ground with one of his hooves, he snorted scornfully. His claw-like hands spread to the sky. “Go ahead, you’d be doing me a favor. I’ve long been weary of this life. Now the Great War between my kind and your kind is beginning and I have no appetite for the slaughter. I don’t care if my side wins or not, or if I survive. I don’t care. “I only came to warn you.” Suppressing her anger and mistrust, she conceded, “And you have.” “One last thing. I just wanted to ask you—” “What?” Dismissive. She wanted him to go. Leave her alone. Or she’d take his head. “You say there are angels and you’ve seen them…have you ever seen a human soul?” His question floored her. “Noooo.” “Do they truly exist? I need to know.” “Souls exist.” “How do you know?”

Page 365 Her voice was softer. “I know. It’s called faith.” He was rattling her. What was he up to? “You know there are souls then. And some will go to this place you humans call heaven…which is a place of beauty, peace, and love…no bloodletting or suffering…no loneliness or unhappiness …where your God is…and souls live there in contentment for eternity?” “Without doubt,” she said flatly. “That’s why we will fight so hard in the upcoming battle against your kind and Satan. That’s why we’ll win. Believe it.” “Do demons have souls?” His voice came out meek as he leaned in closer to her. She’d seen lots of demons in many stances, but never one like his. “No way in hell. Demons are evil. Evil doesn’t have a soul.” “Never?” “Never.” “So no matter what a demon does to redeem himself—save humans’ lives, repent, or denounce this Satan—he’ll never go to heaven and be with your God and all of you or be happy and at peace?” She stared at him and for a brief second she truly felt sorry for him. He wanted the truth and she gave him what she thought it was. “No. Sorry, I don’t think so.” He was waiting for her to say something else, but when she didn’t, Rayner simply pivoted on his hooves and strode back into the night. Cassandra let him go. She didn’t know why, but she did, and hoped she hadn’t made a fatal mistake by allowing him to live. “Damn that demon,” she complained beneath her breath. “Why doesn’t he just leave me alone? And what the heck was all that about souls and heaven and God?” Come to think of it, Rayner had been interested in those very same topics that night in the kitchen with her aunt and uncle. Before all the troubles really began. So long ago now. She shook her head. What was his problem anyway? God help her, a demon that wanted to be a believer. What next?

Page 366 “Could be,” a voice came from behind her, “there’s a tiny spark of good deep down inside Rayner somewhere. Imagine…a touch of virtue in a denizen from hell—and now that would be a miracle.” It was her Uncle George. He’d come outside as she’d been talking to Rayner. Quietly eavesdropping, she hadn’t known he was there until he spoke. He sat down on the top step. “Still, lately we’ve begun to see miraculous things, so why not this? Even a black heart might have shades of gray in it. This is supposed to be a time of miracles. Ha, but it won’t be nothing compared to what we’ll see here real soon, Cassie.” “You couldn’t sleep either, huh?” She said and settled down cross-legged on the ground at his feet. Her eyes inspected the landscape around them. In case that crazy Rayner or any of his cronies came back. Her sword was ready. “No, I couldn’t. I heard you yakking to someone out here so I came to investigate. Stepped on your cat doing it, too. Sorry. Wonder you didn’t hear her yowling. Oh, she’s okay. She’s sulking under your bed covers. A lump under the blanket.” It’d been awhile since the two of them had had time to speak alone. “Uncle George, why do you think Rayner can change? Why do you trust him? You know he’s a…demon.” “I know. I heard. But he’s never given us cause not to trust him has he? He helped Ellie that one night out in the rain and was so nice to her. He saved your cat and saved Sarah’s life in the fire, remember?” “I remember.” “If he wanted to harm us, seems to me he would have done it already.” Cassandra rubbed her eyes. The slice of moon was bright as it shone down through the mist around them. There were no clouds in sight. “You should have a coat on, Uncle. It’s cold out here.” All he was wearing was a shirt and pants. “Nah, I’m not cold. Truth was, it’s kinda stuffy inside and I was craving a breath of fresh air. It helps clear my lungs, my head.

Page 367 “You know, when Ellie was still well, she used to insist on sleeping each night with the window wide open. No matter how cold, she’d lay with her face towards the open window, bundled up in covers, and sleep that way all night. A quirk of hers. She loved fresh air.” They were quiet until Cassandra said, “You seen Ellie lately and has she told you anything of, er, interest?” Her uncle chuckled. “So you’re finally getting around to asking me about her, huh? That I’ve been seeing her since she passed? Yep. I was pretty shocked the first time it happened. I won’t lie to you. Her being a ghost and all. I couldn’t believe it. She looks so young, beautiful really; with that old light in her eyes that tells me she’s herself again. All smart and fiesty. I’m getting used to it. It’s lifted my spirits considerably.” He chuckled again. She’d seen too many strange things herself to contradict him. Though she wasn’t completely comfortable with the whole thing because Manasseh had told her there were no ghosts. Did that go for spirits, as well? Or was it because in the end times anything was possible? She didn’t know. “Actually I was chatting to her earlier this evening,” her uncle stated proudly, “if you want to know, while you guys were singing at the bar. She’s fine. Says heaven’s busy right now getting ready for Armageddon and all. She gets a kick out of the angels. Thinks they’re wondrous, but strange and exotic creatures with their beautiful wings and sparkling whiteness. She says that when they laugh it makes her feel happier than she’s ever felt. “She also says I’m not to pine for her because we’ll be together soon.” Soon. Oh, no, he couldn’t leave her, too. Yet it only made sense that he’d go during the Rapture. He was a believer and always had been. But the thought of losing him, so soon after losing her aunt, made her feel hopeless again. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I want you to stay right here with us. We need you.”

Page 368 “It won’t be my choice. Our fates are fixed, Cassie. You younger ones will stay behind to fight. And me? I’m looking forward to being with my Ellie up in heaven. Healthy and loving the way she used to be. By then, the world will be a real mess and I’ll be glad to leave it behind. “Except I’ll miss you and Johnny and it’ll be hard leaving Sarah and Walter, too. I’ve grown fond of them both.” His hand smoothed her hair as if she were a child again. She let him. It felt good. To be loved. “Oh, Uncle George, I’ll miss you so, too. You’ve been the best father Johnny and I could have ever wanted. The best family. We love you dearly.” She wished she had told him that more often and was glad she was telling him now. “You know that, don’t you?” “I know that. Shhh, shhh.” He placed a kiss on top of her head. “Ellie and I have loved you both as well. We’ve been proud to raise two such fine young people.” He put his arm around her and gave her a fatherly hug, his scratchy face rough against her skin. “Especially now. “Don’t worry, child. You’ll both do fine without me. I know you will.” Cassandra didn’t want to think anymore about what it would be like if he were gone. It hurt too much. It was too soon after Ellie’s death. She shook the thought away. “We ought to go in.” “I agree. You need your sleep. You don’t know what’ll happen next or when. “But I’d like to linger out here a few more minutes, if you don’t mind. Cold as it is, the night sure is pretty. Look at that moon. It’s grinning at me. Ah, Ellie would have loved that moon.” “Then I’ll stay out here with you.” She wouldn’t have left him alone outside anyway not with Rayner and possibly his buddies creeping around. Too risky. “You sure? You and the others had a heck of a night.” “I’m sure.” She took his old gnarled hand in hers. “I can

Page 369 afford to spend a little more time out here with my favorite uncle.” He laughed softly. “You know,” she remarked, peering into the dark and the fog. “I’d like to see Ellie. I miss her so much.” “I imagine you will sooner or later. She always asks about you and Johnny.” They didn’t speak of the future then, but of the old days. They reminisced about their family and the love that’d been in that house on the hill so many years ago. Something they hadn’t done in a long time. They smiled over some of the poignant memories and it felt good to remember without tears or sadness, now that they knew they’d see them again soon. About twenty minutes later, she helped her uncle up into the motor home where their beds waited. He was right. They all had to get their sleep so they’d be ready for whatever tomorrow would bring. **** The next day, Cassandra was uneasy and didn’t wander far from the RV; none of them did, though their enemies were yet days away. “We have to leave within two days?” It was after supper. Walter was sitting at the table, an arm around his wife and cleaning his sword, more like just staring at and admiring its shine, Cassandra thought, with his free hand. “Not much time to plan.” “That’s what Manasseh said. We had three days since yesterday. Now two.” Cassandra was gazing out the window at the backside of Jack’s bar, checking for any movement or prowling beasts as twilight seeped in. “I wish we could hide Uncle George, Sarah, and Johnny some place safer for the next week or so.” For the duration of the war really. She was terrified of losing them. “Here with us is about the safest place they can be. I doused

Page 370 the bus with more holy water and painted more crosses on it. We can’t forget God’s protection, either.” “I know you’re right, but I’d still feel better if they were somewhere else.” “Cassie, stop worrying so much. It’s going to turn your hair gray.” She shot him an annoyed look and he changed the subject. Sarah got up and went into the kitchen for something. “This is the most beautiful sword I’ve ever seen. And not just because it came from an angel. Hmmm, I wonder if it was forged by them?” “It’s a fairly good bet.” Every so often, the blade glowed for no reason at all. “It’s reminding us,” Walter said, “what it is and who we are.” He smiled, totally bewitched by a piece of metal. Finished cleaning it, he rewrapped it in the towel. Sarah came up behind her. “You try phoning Aurora again lately?” “Yeah. Left another message. About the tenth.” Earlier, she and Johnny had borrowed Walter’s truck, looked up Aurora’s address and drove to her house. No one had been home. No mother in a wheelchair, no child, and no Aurora. They’d gone by Wal-Mart only to discover Aurora had taken a week off with no explanation. “Where are they and why hasn’t she called us? We have to warn her about the coming invasion before we go. It’s not the sort of news I can leave on a message machine. I have to be absolutely sure she gets it.” “I hope she’s okay.” Sarah sat back down as Uncle George dealt her another Rummy hand. They’d been passing the time with cards. Well, some of them had. “Aurora can take care of herself,” Walter placated her. “Most likely she’s busy doing something and can’t get to a phone. We should have given her one of ours.” They hadn’t thought about that at the time and now it was too late. They were just getting used to carrying cell phones themselves.

Page 371 Uncle George was always forgetting where he put his. Even in a space as small as the RV there were nooks and crannies for it to hide. Once, Walter had found it in the refrigerator. “I’m concerned about her. Her family.” Cassandra slid in the seat adjacent to her uncle’s and indifferently studied the cards he’d dealt her. None of them made sense. Her mind wasn’t on the game, so she folded. “No more for me.” Where was Aurora? Less than two days left before the demon horde came. Cassandra had a hunch they should go before that, though she couldn’t bring herself to leave town until they’d heard from Aurora and made sure she was okay. What happened if she was in trouble, needed them, and returned to the parking lot to find them gone? She couldn’t do that to her. So they’d wait as long as they could. Last resort, they could leave a note for Aurora on her door or at Jack’s when they did go. That was better than nothing. Around eight o’clock, there was a knock on the door and everyone just looked at each other. Cassandra got up to answer it. “Aurora, thank God.” She welcomed her with a warm embrace. “I’m so glad to see you. We’ve been trying to find you all day.” “I knew you’d be worried. I had a premonition after leaving the other night that a massive influx of demons were coming. Don’t know when, but soon. More than the three of us could ever hope to fight off. I took my mom and daughter out of town to stay with one of my mom’s old friends, Dana, until this is over. That’s where I’ve been. I just got back. “And, truth is, I’ve been trying to call you, any of the five numbers you gave me, since last night. All I get is white noise. Either your phones aren’t working or something’s interfering.” “Something’s interfering,” Cassandra said. “They work between us.” “I think I’m being watched. When I returned home I snuck

Page 372 out, left the car in the garage, and walked over, so those monsters wouldn’t see me leave in my car. With the short cuts I know through people’s yards, I don’t live that far away.” “As long as you’re okay.” “I’m as good as can be expected after the kidnappings and Mary’s murder. I’m ready to fight.” Aurora put a hand on the hilt of her sword. She’d fashioned a cloth strap over her shoulder, across her chest, and had tied the sword’s hilt from it. She’s somehow changed, Cassandra thought, from the last time she’d seen her. Stronger. More decisive. The tears were gone. Determination had replaced them. And she’d chopped her long raven hair off like a boy’s. It looked good on her. The shorter cut made her amethyst eyes seem darker somehow and her face sharper. She caught Cassandra looking at her hair, brushed her hand up against the ends of it, and explained, “It’ll make it easier to take care of. Easier to fight. When I was in the woods the other night it kept falling in my face. Nearly got me killed. So I cut it all off.” “It suits you. It really does.” “Thanks.” “You eaten yet?” Uncle George asked the new arrival. “We got plenty of stew left from super and biscuits I made myself from scratch.” “No, I haven’t eaten.” For the first time since Cassandra had met her, Aurora smiled. “Stew and biscuits sounds yummy. Fighting monsters and being on the run hasn’t given me much of a chance to eat. Nothing homemade for sure. I’ll take a bowl with thanks.” Aurora ate while Walter caught her up on what was coming down the pike. Outside the window, nightfall had come. Cassandra knew they had time to make their escape, yet the darkness made her nervous. By this time tomorrow, they’d be on the run, in some other town. Again. “You want to go for a ride with us?” She invited Aurora.

Page 373 “When?” “Tomorrow first light. It won’t be safe here after tomorrow for any of us. Aurora, you should come with us.” “Nothing to keep me here now.” The woman’s head tilted to one side. “Then I should be getting back home to pack up some things.” “We can drop you off and wait for you.” They weren’t given time to get an answer. Cassandra heard the shouts first from far away. Everyone stopped talking. She cracked the door, listened, and shut it just as fast, then tucked her cell phone into her jacket pocket. “Uh, oh, a lot of somethings are coming our way.” “What is it?” Johnny whispered. “More of those invisible demons?” “I’d put my money on that assumption.” “Whatever it is, it’s getting closer,” Walter exhaled between clenched teeth. “Rapidly.” Already behind the wheel, he didn’t get a chance to turn the key before the bus began to bounce. The ground shook. “Demons,” Sarah cried. “They’re already here.” She turned to Cassandra. “I thought you said they weren’t coming until tomorrow night?” So even Manasseh could be wrong. “They weren’t supposed to.” “Hold on tight to something, people,” Walter shouted. “We’re moving.” Cassandra grabbed her sword and scurried up front with him. She belted herself into the passenger’s seat as the RV spun wheels and lurched forward. Walter’s eyes were on the night beyond the headlights. “We’re not going to outrun them. By the sounds of it, their army will be here any second. I can’t see them yet, but they’re mighty close. I can feel them.” Cassandra didn’t want the demons to attack the bus, not with her uncle, Sarah, and Johnny in it. Damn, we should have left this morning. Too late now.

Page 374 There were flickers of movement in the headlights and snarling creatures were blocking their path. “They’re here!” Walter attempted to ram the first wave of demons with the RV, but a blanket of what looked like mud and tree branches smashed into the windshield and he couldn’t see. Please don’t let it be tar or something like it. “How many of them are there?” Aurora breathed, still at the table, sitting close to the window, staring outside and holding on for dear life. “It doesn’t matter. They’re not going to let us get away.” All Cassandra could think was she couldn’t let them get Uncle George, Sarah, or Johnny. They weren’t going to do to them what they’d done to Mary. The RV came to a jarring halt as if it’d hit a concrete wall. Then the violent rocking began. “We have to fight them,” Walter yelled. “Let’s go.” He was out of his seat and had his sword in his hands before the bus swayed again. Cassandra was behind him. “Wait,” Aurora pleaded, “let’s say a quick prayer before we face them.” “We don’t have time!” Cassandra glanced at Aurora, but the woman had already begun. Everyone stopped moving, grasped hands, and hung their heads. The prayer was the fastest one she’d ever said because the noise outside had evolved into a roar and a mysterious red iridescence now filled the windows. The bus bucked. Demons threw themselves against it, but couldn’t get in. Not yet anyway. They finished the prayer. “Now let’s go get them.” Cassandra lifted her weapon, took the lead, and shoved out the door. Walter and Aurora behind her. “Johnny,” Cassandra ordered him on the way out, “drive the bus out of here. Go to that church Sarah and Walter got married at. You’ll be safe there. We’ll meet up when we’re done.”

Page 375 The last thing she heard before the door closed was her brother. “Cassandra, be careful!” He dove behind the wheel, ran the wipers to clear off the windshield, and the bus rumbled to life. She worried over his lack of RV driving skills, he hadn’t had much practice on the trip to Ash Hill, but there was no way out of it. Her uncle couldn’t handle a small vehicle much less the larger one; Sarah was too frightened to be trusted. The motor home, with Walter’s truck bouncing behind it, jerked towards the road, picking up speed, leaving the three of them on the parking lot in the dark with their enemy. Fear overwhelmed Cassandra, but she didn’t have time to deal with it. She’d tumbled into a crowd of hissing demons trying to eat her and her friends and all she could do was react. Swing the sword. Cut them down. Fight. It was beginning to feel almost natural. The blades did their work. The lightning came. The demons had overrun Jack’s bar, had set fire to it. The flames burst into the sooty sky and illuminated the woods around them. Thank God, being Monday, it was Ginny and Jack’s night off and the bar was closed. No one was there. If the fire had been set the night before, it could have been a disaster. This time, the three of them crowded together and forged a path into the throng. They charged and attacked whatever got in their way. There were so many more than the last time, an endless sea of growling, clawing, and biting demons that wouldn’t stop advancing. Some were on four hooves, some were on two; some rode high above them on hellish looking mounts—and all were trying to annihilate them. The demons, a hardier breed than the previous ones they’d encountered, were different and not as easy to slay. These were larger, faster, and stronger. It didn’t take long for her to see they weren’t going to win this time. Manasseh had been right about that. The beasts kept coming. The three of them swung their weapons and disintegrated the enemy. There were no beings

Page 376 of light with heavenly wings alongside them in the fray. No help came this time. She, Aurora, and Walter were beaten back and hit with a fresh wave of aggressors. The only thing saving them was the respect the demons had for the swords. They held back, circling around them, waiting for a chance to sneak in. When they did, they were slaughtered. Now, not only Jack’s bar was ablaze, but also the trees and the land around it. A gigantic scarlet-skinned creature towered behind Aurora. Before she could get out of its way, it’d pinned her to the ground with a huge hoof. Aurora’s sword came up, but the demon swept it aside and it flew from her hand and clattered to the ground. Knife-sharp talons rose and fell. Blood soaked through Aurora’s sleeve in at least three places and she shrieked in agony. Another heartbeat and the demon, its claws moving upwards, would have torn her throat out. Cassandra saw Aurora’s plight and rushed to her side. The first time she thrust her sword at the red demon, it dissolved and rematerialized behind her. Two times more she attacked, yet she couldn’t touch it. It was that fast. Her sword glimmered, lightning dazzled along its blade, but the wily demon was never where the lightning touched down. The creature glittered in the firelight, its hands and neck covered in jewels. Was this the demon Rayner had warned her of? She tried to recall what he’d said would kill it. Stay to its left side. Take its head. Use its name. What was its name? Rayner had told her, but in her fright she’d forgotten. If she could get close enough to the damned thing. Walter kept the others away as she fought the red demon, but she couldn’t get the best of the creature bearing down on her. Her sword couldn’t make contact with it. Demons were throwing themselves at Aurora’s sword as it lay on the ground, frenetically attempting to steal it, but the metal burnt to ashes any of them that touched it.

Page 377 Cassandra and her friends were overrun. Outnumbered. “There’s too many, Cassie, retreat!” Walter railed over the howling of the beasts. “We can’t,” she shouted as the demon she thought Rayner had warned her of once more lunged at her. She barely got out of his way in time. “We’re surrounded.” Aurora rose to her feet, retrieved her sword, and injured or not, was struggling to help her. But the crimson demon threw one of his arms out and whacked Aurora to the ground. “You can!” Walter bellowed again. “Run!” The RV came careening back onto the parking lot, heading straight for them. Johnny, bless his soul, had come to their rescue. The bus dispersed the demons, knocked the red giant aside, screeched to a halt next to Cassandra and Aurora, and the door yawned open. “Get in,” Sarah screamed from inside. “There’s another surge of them coming after this one. Miles and miles of them. You can’t win and we’re getting you out of here.” They didn’t need to be told twice. Walter scooped Aurora up from the ground and the three scrambled into the bus with the demons nipping at their shadows. As they skedaddled into the night, the world aflame and full of yowling hell spawn on their tail, Cassandra breathlessly asked Sarah, “How did you and Johnny know more were coming and we needed you to return for us? You seeing them now, too?” Johnny was busy driving, his hair flying all around his head, his strained face reflected in the dash lights. “No.” Sarah was hanging on to anything she could grab as the RV thumped down the road. Walter’s old truck following behind it sometimes swerving side to side but always snapping back just in time before it crossed the center lines. “George said Ellie told him we should come back and rescue you three or else you’d die. We couldn’t have that…so here we are.”

Page 378 Ellie again. “I’m so glad she did. Aurora’s wounded.” Cassandra didn’t mention anything about the angels not coming to help them when they needed them the most. Why upset them. Yet she was still in shock. They’d nearly died out there. She couldn’t get that out of her mind. Why had they been forsaken? And now, too late, she remembered the demon name Rayner had given her. Damn, it was Brynmor. She’d remember it next time. If there was a next time. “Cassie,” Uncle George called to her from further back in the bus, “I think we need to get this girl to a hospital. She’s lost a lot of blood.” Cassandra put her sword down on the table and examined Aurora’s arm. It was slashed to the bone and blood was everywhere. Pools of it on the floor. Walter had about gotten the bleeding stopped; the wound was slowly beginning to heal as they looked on. Not fast enough. The woman was in terrible pain. “Cassandra.” Walter looked at her. “We need your magic touch. It’s really bad and we don’t have the time to wait for her to heal herself. She’ll bleed to death first. And we might not be able to outrun these uglies.” “All right.” Cassandra laid her fingers on the skin surrounding the gash. In moments, the injury was gone. “I don’t think we need to go to the hospital.” Cassandra sagged in her chair. “She’ll be okay now. Her recuperative powers should take over from here.” The bus was racing down the highway; the truck tagging along. The windows were blank squares of gloom. There were no signs of anything following them. Yet. The outside darkness made it hard to see much of anything. The moon hid behind clouds as it had since dusk. Johnny was grinning up front behind the wheel, enjoying the chase. “See, I can be useful, too. I saved your butts back there,” he crowed. “I really did.” Cassandra sat in the passenger seat and clicked on her seat

Page 379 belt so she wouldn’t go flying into a wall or anything. “Yeah, Brother, you did. Thanks.” “Ellie helped.” Her uncle crouched behind them, holding on to the back of Cassandra’s seat. “She said her angel told her to get us back there and pick you up. So we did.” So all the angels hadn’t forsaken them. Good to know. “What else did Ellie say?” Cassandra’s eyes were on the outside scenery as they hit a bump and the bus flew up into the air and down again, jostling everyone. It was a rough ride, the top heavy motor home tipping precariously to the right or left at times. Still, there were no beasts running or flying along side of them. There were none clamoring, breaking windows, or clinging on top of the bus whining to get in. She was sure the beasts would follow them. If they’d catch up was another story. Walter must have come to the same conclusion. “Let’s park at the church over night. It’ll give us some protection until we decide what to do.” “You have my vote.” She kept seeing the torrent of demons they’d left behind; kept seeing Jack’s Place and the woods in flames. Jack and Ginny weren’t going to be happy. She hoped they had insurance. Then, remembering Aurora’s dream, a terrible thought came to her. What else was burning…other houses…the town? She checked on Aurora’s wound. It was healed. Only the sticky blood remained. “I feel better now,” Aurora confessed to her. “Thank you for saving my life, healing my wound, but now…I need to go check on my family. I have this awful feeling. I’m afraid for them. Can you drop me off at my house on the way so I can get my car?” “You should spend a few more hours with us first. Let’s be sure you’re all right and that we’ve shaken the demons.” Cassandra didn’t like the way Aurora looked. Her arm had mended, but the woman’s face was flushed, her eyes were glazed. She could barely stand. She wasn’t acting like herself.

Page 380 “You’re unsteady. You won’t be any help to your family if you’re too sick to fight. And you might lead the enemy to them if you go now. Don’t fool yourself, they’re out there waiting. We’ll drop you off once it gets light. The beasts will be in hiding and then you can go to your family.” “I see the sense in that. I’ll stay. I’m too weak to argue.” They slowed down as they entered the town’s limits. Small towns shut down early during the week and Ash Hill was no exception. The houses and shops were closed and shuttered, but untouched. They found the church and pulled up behind it, turned off the headlights, and waited. No demons showed up. It was quiet. The only sounds were the gentle winds and sighing of the trees around them. The church was dimly lit from inside, but comforting as it stood sentry before them. “We’re out of danger, I think, for tonight anyway.” Aurora was the first one to say it. “I don’t sense they’ve followed us. We lost them. They don’t know where we are.” “How can you be so sure?” Johnny switched on the bulb above the driver’s seat. The bus was filled with soft light. “I saw it.” “Like in a vision or something?” “Yes.” “Oh.” “Why didn’t they follow us?” Cassandra was curious. “I don’t know. I only know we’re okay for now. It could be they’re regrouping or they have another target they’re after.” “The town?” Since the bus came to a stop, Walter, who seemed to never forgot his EMT training, wiped blood from Aurora’s skin, examined the healed wound and took her pulse. “I don’t know,” Sarah was the one to answer. “The town looked peaceful as we drove through.” “It did.” Cassandra wiped her face with a wet rag Sarah had given her. It came away dirty and red. “What are they up to then? They wouldn’t give up this easy. There are hours of

Page 381 dark yet.” “They haven’t given up.” Aurora closed her eyes. “They’ll be trying again sooner or later after they regroup and get their new orders. They’re in no hurry. They think they’re unbeatable.” Uncle George made a pot of coffee. “We’ll need some if we’re going to stay awake.” After an hour went by and no sign of the enemy, Cassandra turned to Walter. “You know, there were no angels tonight fighting with us. Why do you think they weren’t there?” “I can’t say.” He looked sideways at her. “Who can say why God does what he does—or his angels? There must have been a reason. We aren’t privy to it.” “Do you think God was angry with us for fighting, and not obeying, when we were told not to? Could that have been why?” “I don’t know, Cassie. We’re all here, in one piece. That’s what counts. God protected us.” “Uh-huh. Now what do we do?” Smelling of smoke and blood, Walter rubbed his eyes. “You tell me, Boss.” “I have no idea what to do next.” “Then I’ll take a stab at it. Pray for dawn to come,” Walter mouthed, yawning. “Get some sleep. One of us stands guard in case our foes find us again.” “I’ll volunteer first.” It had to be someone who could see the demons. “And I’ll let you. Wake me up if you need a break.” Walter took his wife’s hand and they made their way to the bedroom. “I will.” Everyone but Cassandra settled down to rest. They’d put Aurora on the bed that came out from under the table. Cassandra would sleep later on the narrow air mattress on the kitchen floor. Johnny was bunking with George. None of them slept well. They listened for the sounds of demons closing in around them, though they believed the

Page 382 church’s nearness would keep them safe. The night continued to be quiet except for the sirens going to the fires they’d left behind. No, Jack and Ginny weren’t going to be happy that their bar had been torched. Cassandra wanted to call them, give them her regrets on their loss, but then she’d have to tell them what she knew about it—and how she knew. They might even think they’d set it since they’d been parked so close, but were now gone. That would be bad. It was better to lay low behind the church and make their escape in the morning. That is, if the demons didn’t find them before then.

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Chapter Twenty-Five Cassandra Dawn oozed into the rooms of the motor home and there was a strange buzzing in the air. Cassandra looked out the window. The church was nestled against the forest that encircled the town and the woods were filled with glittering ruby eyes. The demons had found them. She woke everyone, but by that time full light had come and the eyes were gone. Afraid for the others, Cassandra, Walter, and Aurora put on their coats, combed the woods, but there was nothing there. Daylight had chased the monsters away. “They didn’t bother us. They’re gone now. Let’s get back to the bus,” Cassandra said. It’d grown steadily colder and now it took her breath away. “Jeez, it feels more like January, not October.” She wrapped her arms around her upper body. “It wasn’t only daylight that made them go, but us being on holy ground.” Walter watched the woods, a thoughtful look on his face. “They’ll return at dark.” Aurora stood there shivering. Her jacket wasn’t warm enough for the sudden cold. She had no gloves or hat. None of them did. They’d have to get some. “And we’ll be long gone.” Cassandra led them through the woods back to the RV. A strange mist was spreading around them, hiding the base of the trees, crawling upwards. She wanted to get back to the bus while they could still see what was ahead of them. On the way, they tried to enter the church, but no one

Page 384 answered when they banged on the doors. It was Tuesday so there might not have been early masses, but it was unusual that it was locked up. Father Carlos was nowhere in sight. They searched the grounds. No one. In the bus over breakfast they thrashed out what they were going to do next. “I’ll hang around for awhile,” Aurora surprised them by saying. “I had that dream again last night. Demons burnt down the town. I don’t know when it happens, but it does, so I need to stay. It’s my town full of people I know. People I care about. I can’t abandon them; can’t leave here yet.” “We were told to go,” Walter reminded her. “That’s you, not me. I wouldn’t have been given the dream if I weren’t supposed to act on it. My mother and daughter are out of danger for now. That was in the dream, too. I’d know it if they weren’t.” She touched the place above her heart. “I have to stay.” “We can’t leave Aurora to fight alone. It’s our job to protect our own as well as to fight those beasts.” Cassandra was eating an English muffin with strawberry jam on it. There were five other muffins on the plate. Johnny grabbed one. “We have to help her.” “We do.” Walter finished his coffee and, disturbing Sarah, who’d been snuggled in the crook of his arm, got up to pour another cup. Inside the bus, it was warm and cozy. Outside, the windows had frosted up. The mist had frozen. It didn’t look like daytime at all. Sarah reclaimed her place nestled in her husband’s arms. “I’m for staying and helping.” “Me, too.” Though Johnny’s voice was unsure. Cassandra shut her eyes and exhaled. Please don’t be mad at us, Manasseh. We can’t abandon Aurora. So they stayed, planning what to do next, though they should have gone. At times, from the haze-shrouded forest, they could hear hissing, thrashing, as if some force were tearing up the woods.

Page 385 “Those demons are up to no good,” Walter commented to Cassandra. “We better come up with a plan soon.” “I’m thinking,” she said. “What has me concerned, though, is that fog. We won’t be able to see a thing if it’s as thick out there as it is here.” “It’ll lift sooner or later.” Walter went to the windows and gazed out. “That’s when we’ll make our move.” Cassandra didn’t disagree. He’d said what she’d been thinking. She didn’t know what was worse, though, waiting for the demons to strike or watching the horrendous news on the television. The world’s swift changing, as George and Ellie had predicted, had come to pass. “There’s been an enormous oceanic earthquake,” her uncle reported, his old eyes on the flickering screen, “and a huge tsunami devastated the Asian coast. Hundreds of thousands of people were swept away to sea and thousands more injured; the financial damage in the billions. Worse devastation recorded in history, worse even than that tsunami in two thousand and five. “Widespread floods in California. An early winter storm is raging across the west, and has plunged four states into an early night. There’re car accidents and looting everywhere. People get crazy when they’re scared. The death toll is rising. “It’s begun.” He turned to meet her eyes, looking older than she’d ever seen him. Sarah was watching the flickering screen, too. “Here’s the clincher. I heard earlier that people are giving accounts of being assaulted by persons with hideous masks and deformed bodies. There are stories of gangs of scary beings rampaging in the cities and towns, burning homes and buildings. Killing mercilessly.” “The uglies,” Walter affirmed morosely. “I mean demons.” “And, of course, those who are witnessing these attacks aren’t being believed.” “No shock there.” Walter took one of Cassandra’s muffins from the plate.

Page 386 “Either others like us are seeing them,” Cassandra concluded, “or the demons are getting bolder.” “Or the veil between our worlds is evaporating.” Uncle George stated the worse scenario. Cassandra stared at the television screen with dismayed eyes. The events unfolding were hard to watch yet she couldn’t turn away. She ran her fingers along the scars on the side of her face as she felt sad for the world that had once been and was no longer. “Worse is coming,” she whispered to herself. She didn’t have the heart to see it, didn’t know how she was going to bear it. Studying the faces of the others, they probably felt the same way. Her heart ached for all of them. “It’s begun all right,” she echoed her uncle. “The beginning before the end.” “It’s been going on for a long time, Cassie. Only more people are being dragged into it. Such foul fearsome beasts will walk the earth in the end times that humans will tremble and many will die merely at the sight of them. That’s what Ellie told me. We haven’t seen anything yet.” That’s what she was afraid of. By lunchtime, the racket outside the RV was ear splitting. The fog, a gray cover of wispy cotton, had settled on the town and through it they heard pitiful screams and the crackling of fire. “I can’t stand it anymore,” Aurora finally exclaimed and jumped up. “I have to go help…anyone I can find anyway.” “Then we’ll go with you,” Walter announced. They braved the fog, unable to see ten feet ahead, and foraged into town, but only found burning buildings. No demons. No people. Just devastation. They returned to their metal sanctuary. “Our enemy is hiding in the woods, sneaking out, abducting and killing people and setting fires,” Aurora ranted. “Laughing at us. Tormenting us. God, I hate them!”

Page 387 Back in the motor home, Cassandra told her, “We can’t save anyone if we’re holed up here. So what are we supposed to do? The town looked abandoned. The fog was so thick we couldn’t see anything out there. The woods were just as bad. We bumped into the trees before we even saw them. We can’t destroy the enemy if we can’t find them.” “There must be survivors and we have to help them.” Aurora was pacing the cramped area between the table and the driver’s seat. “I feel awful. I’d hoped we’d save the town, but now there doesn’t seem to be townsfolk left to save.” “What bothers me,” Cassandra studied the frosty mist through the front windows, “is that now the demons are out in the daylight. Foggy, but still daylight.” George had been reading Ellie’s Bible on the sofa; he looked up at her. “They aren’t hiding anymore. The tide’s shifted. It’s open war. So, get ready for it. The old rules are no more.” “I should get back to my family.” Aurora, as Cassandra, was trying to see what was outside the bus windows. There was only the fog. “It’s hopeless.” Johnny stood by the woman. Though Aurora was older than him, Cassandra could see he’d formed an attachment to her. Discovering Aurora liked to sing, that morning before breakfast, the two had jammed together as Johnny strummed his guitar. It turned out Aurora had a sweet voice, true pitch, which was rare. Johnny said it reminded him of her voice and Cassandra had looked on, relieved to see Aurora smiling for once instead of weeping; seeing her brother happy. It hadn’t lasted long enough. By mid-afternoon Aurora was pacing again. “I can’t wait any longer for this pea soup to thin out. I’ll get back to the house somehow. The fog will hide me as well as the monsters. I have to be sure my daughter and mother are safe.” She put her coat on. “We can drive her, Cassie, can’t we?” Johnny couldn’t take his eyes off Aurora. He reached out a hand and laid it on the woman’s shoulder tenderly. “To her house or that friend of

Page 388 her mother’s house?” “Dana.” Aurora supplied the name. “No. The monsters know this RV and would follow. Might as well put up a neon sign on my destination. I’ll sneak home, get my car, and drive to Dana’s. I’ll need it because I never know when mom’s got to go to the doctor or hospital. It’s best if I go alone. I’ve lived here all my life, know the area well; I can find my house in the dark. The fog shouldn’t stop me.” “You sure? I don’t like the idea of you leaving alone,” Johnny said. “I’ll make it. I know short cuts from here, too. It’s a little further than from Jack’s bar, but I can do it. For the last hour, I’ve had this feeling I should be with them. They’re in danger. Got to go now.” “Let me take you to your house in the truck, then,” Walter made another proposal. “The demons know the truck, too. They’ve probably got roadblocks out for it and the RV.” “You’re probably right,” Sarah remarked. “And you can hear the truck’s noisy motor from miles away. It’d be safer, like you say, if you hiked it home.” “We’ll pray for you,” was all George said. Cassandra wasn’t happy with the idea of Aurora going by herself, either, but understood why she had to. If the beasts got her mother and her other daughter, Aurora wouldn’t be able to go on. She hadn’t grieved enough or forgiven herself for Mary yet. Aurora’s hand was on the doorknob. “Before I go, I want to thank you for your help. All of you. We tried. It wasn’t your fault we couldn’t save the town and its people. I’m afraid it wasn’t meant to be. “And don’t be frightened for me. I have my sword, your telephone numbers on speed dial. I’ll call if I can, I promise.” They’d given her a cell phone this time to stay in contact. “But I know I’ll see you all again, so I won’t say good-bye. I’ll just say see you soon.”

Page 389 The door slammed behind her and she became part of the mist. They knew she had to go, but it didn’t make it any easier. Certainly Johnny would miss and worry about her. Looking at the expression on her brother’s face, Cassandra knew he was already in love with the woman. Strangely enough, she wasn’t surprised at all that the man who had never cared about love before was suddenly in it. It made sense somehow. “We should leave, too,” Walter recommended a short time after Aurora left. “Make a run for it before dusk when there could be a full-scale attack. We were told to leave and there’s nothing we can do here as long as that fog’s out there anyway. We can’t see a thing. It’ll be tricky enough driving out, but I’ll manage it one way or another. I’ve experience driving in adverse weather conditions.” He grinned. “I’ll just follow the road and the white lines.” “All right, we’ll go now—” Cassandra only had time to say before a horrific yell came from outside somewhere. Human. There was another and another yell along with the crashing noises of something substantial collapsing…a building? Cassandra didn’t have to say anything to Walter. He put his coat on and picked up his sword. They couldn’t ignore cries for help. They stepped outside and moved cautiously through the fog towards the tormented cries. The mist eddied in thick patches around them, hiding everything, but they tracked the sounds. The noise and bright flames showing through the fog led them. The screaming stopped abruptly. A portion of the fog lifted from the town. Cassandra didn’t like what she saw when it did. A house was on fire, reduced to a wooden skeleton, but there were no demons anywhere. No fire trucks. Not one person, either. No one. They ran to a smoldering discount dollar store that had burned to the ground. Again, there was no one around. They

Page 390 moved on to the bridal store where they’d bought Sarah’s dress; to the bakery where they’d had the cake made. All burnt to the ground. For Cassandra, the reek of seared wood and burning flesh brought back horrible memories. Lord, was she to be forever plagued by the horrors of arson? Of what they could see of the ravaged town, it was abandoned and nothing human survived anywhere. Only the church had been left untouched. “Where is everyone?” Cassandra stood in the street, the dying flames warming her face. “We heard the screams. They were human.” “They’re gone or dead. Poor souls.” Walter strode across the road and she fell in behind him, treading through a layer of ashy powder and debris. “You know, demons can mimic humans so well, you’d think they were humans. The cries could have been one of their tricks. Trying to get us out in the open. If they can’t kill us, they sure as hell can torment us and mess with our minds.” “Well, it worked.” She swiped at her dirty face, trying not to cry. The calls for help from tortured people had shaken her that badly. The entire main street, the shops and places they’d visited a few days before on the morning of Walter’s marriage, were now ruined shells. Damn destructive, sadistic demons. Walter’s eyes inspected the neighborhood around them. “I don’t trust them. We should get out of town, too. Don’t you feel it, Cassie? They’re coming and this time we might not be so lucky to escape alive.” “I feel it. Let’s go.” Cassandra’s frustration was heavy. Where had all the people gone? She wanted to fight, not flee. She couldn’t believe they hadn’t saved even one person. Not one. What good were they if the couldn’t help anyone? She swallowed. “Nothing else we can do but head down the highway. Try to outrun them.” There was a huge explosion in a two-story house behind

Page 391 them. Chunks of concrete and wood rained down. Walter grabbed her and yanked her down the street or she would have been hit with shrapnel. A hard rain sliced through what was left of the smoky haze as they sprinted to the RV. The temperature had dropped further and within minutes the rain turned into an icy snowy mess that stung her skin. She was glad to get back in the bus. Inside, Walter dried off as she called 911 for the tenth time. Again all she heard was a busy signal. The town was in shambles, the citizens were nowhere to be seen, and no one cared. No one was around. Probably dead. It was a horrifying thought that the demons had slaughtered, decimated a whole town. This was what they had to look forward to from now on… nothing but death and desolation. Tears filled her eyes and this time she let them fall. “The rain and sleet will put out the remainder of the fires. That’s something.” Walter was drinking a cup of coffee Sarah had given him. His hands trembled. After being updated on the town’s fate, the others sat around with long faces. “Where are the townspeople…the firefighters…the police…the media?” Johnny posed the same questions she had. “Gone,” her uncle mouthed dismally, “or run off and hiding.” “They’re dead.” Walter was blunt. “It’s just like what happened at the circus.” “Some of them must have escaped. It’s easier thinking that than the alternative,” Sarah muttered, bringing her husband a dry shirt that she helped him put on. The fighting of the night before, their little trek into the frozen woods and seeing the burning town had drained him. None of them were sleeping well since Mary’s murder, especially Walter who’d taken on the responsibility of protecting them all. He slept fitfully, waking at every unusual

Page 392 noise. Walter, Sarah had finally told Cassandra, had a secret only she knew. He had Type Two diabetes and had to check his blood sugar regularly, watch his diet and weight. He had to make sure he didn’t get too fatigued. His new lifestyle wasn’t conducive to his illness. The ringing of Cassandra’s cell phone startled them. “Yes?” She shushed the others and whispered, “It’s Aurora.” “Are you okay?” She was silent for seconds then said, “I’ll tell them. Yes, Walter and I went out and saw it. I’m so sorry. There was nothing we could do. The town’s gone. No, we saw no one, either. No demons. No humans.” She gave a nod and a pause. More talking. More listening. Consoling. Tears gleamed in her eyes. “Aurora, don’t take it so hard. Stop crying. Stop blaming yourself. It’s not your fault. Remember that. You didn’t know. There was nothing you could have done. Believe that.” At the end of their exchange, Cassandra finished, “You be careful, too, Aurora, and if you need anything, call us. We’ll come.” She hung up. “What happened?” Walter asked. “Aurora got home, but the demons had burnt down her mother’s house like the rest of the town. The only building still standing is the church. “She was smart to get her family out of there. Smart to hide the car in the woods behind and away from the house.” “Where is she now?” Johnny wanted to know. “She’s on her way to Dana’s house. She called to let us know about her place and what she’d seen on her way home. She didn’t come across or see one person anywhere. I told her we already knew that Ash Hill has been leveled by fire; told her we wanted to help, but didn’t see any people anywhere either. “There were demons in the woods behind us when she left, she said. She hid from them and got home undetected.

Page 393 They were out there waiting...for something. Possibly more of their kind to arrive. She says we should be extra careful.” “I was afraid she’d find her house burned after what happened to us and the town,” Walter remarked. “She’s lucky she’s got her car.” “She’s lucky to be alive,” Johnny exclaimed. “What she gonna do now with their house destroyed?” “She said after they leave Dana’s they’d rent a place for a while. Not in Ash Hill or anywhere close, though. Somewhere else. She also thinks we should get as far away from here as fast as we can because so many demons are amassing in the woods. Thousands.” “Jeez,” Johnny groaned. And she could almost tell what he was thinking: How can we fight that many? Heck if she knew. “I hope her mother has insurance on that house,” her uncle spoke, frowning. “Unfortunately, she’d let it lapse. Not enough money.” Cassandra wiped cold fingers across her grimy face. The journey through the woods had caked her in muck and she needed a shower. Soon as she got a chance she’d grab a quick one. Later. “Not that having insurance will make any difference. By the time she could rebuild the house I’m afraid nowhere will be safe. The demons will be on the warpath everywhere and she’ll have to be on the run like us.” “I feel bad for them, her, anyway. I wish we could do something to help. Aurora’s had so much heartbreak already.” Johnny’s guitar lay in his lap, but he wasn’t strumming it. He was staring out the window at the sleet that had turned into icy snow. It slapped the outside of the RV, playing it like a drum. “I’m going to call her. I’ll give her time to get where she’s going first, though. I wouldn’t want to distract her, not when there are so many demons running around.” He really cares about her, she thought. Poor Johnny. She glanced at Sarah and Walter. It wasn’t a great time to fall in love. But the heart never followed rules. It wanted what it wanted when it wanted it. She sighed tiredly and wandered

Page 394 over to a window; looked out. Somewhere beyond the church grounds, the town smoked, but Cassandra couldn’t see it. “Darn queer weather,” she said, “for October. All I can see is solid white.” “Yep, queer weather.” Sarah was staring out the window, too. Pausing, she tacked on, “Aurora knows she can come to us. We’ll help with money. Anything. She knows that.” “I have the strongest suspicion,” Cassandra put it out for the others to consider, “that there’re demon spies out there stalking us for a reason.” “Keeping an eye on us for their bosses?” Walter presented his conclusion. “We should get out of here, but it’s an ice storm; I don’t know if it’s possible to drive out now. The roads must be skating rinks beneath the snow. I can’t see five feet ahead of us.” “And you all insist we have the angels and God on our side?” Johnny mocked sarcastically. “Well, they’re not helping us much, are they? Even the weather’s against us.” No one said anything to that. What could they say? Uncle George had been scribbling in his notebook, acting calm about the situation. He’d been quieter than normal all day. “Will they rush us at nightfall, you think, if we’re still here?” he asked Walter. “I don’t know. The church could be protecting us or the demons could be waiting for reinforcements before they make a move. I hadn’t planned on us being here this long. Right now, Cassie’s right, nothing’s moving out there I can see, but the snow. But, Cassie, I can try to get us out if you want me to. Say the word and we go.” Her head canted to the side as she thought about it. Then, “Let’s give it a while longer. It won’t be true night yet for hours.” “Maybe they don’t like the snow?” Sarah, as most of them, was watching the snowfall, too. “It’s too…white? Too cold?” A nervous chuckle.

Page 395 “Too wet?” Johnny added in his chuckle. “We wouldn’t be that lucky.” Cassandra smirked as her eyes followed Walter’s to what was happening outside. It looked as if the windows were covered in thick white paper. “If they come for us, we’ll fight, but I’d hate to try to do it out in that frozen mush.” Walter seconded that. “With the ice we’d spend more time on our butts than on our feet—if we could even see what we were fighting. Can you imagine wielding and swinging our swords out in that?” It was his turn to chuckle this time, but no one joined him. “Let’s hope the demons,” Sarah spoke, “don’t want to fight in it, either.” “I don’t think they feel cold,” Cassandra put in her opinion. “We’re not even sure they’re afraid of holy ground. We only think they are. Whatever, we better be ready if they attack.” They should be leaving Ash Hill. They should have left that morning. Instead, they were trapped by the weather. Trapped like tiny bugs in white amber. By nightfall, the snow had slowed down and a blanket of solid ice and white glittered and covered the ground, the charred buildings around them, and glazed the trees. Brittle, a touch might crack the limbs into a million pieces. Cassandra wiped off a circle of condensation on one of the windows. The church looked like one of those sparkling miniature buildings from a Christmas village. She had to admit it was beautiful. A shame the white world hid only danger. The motor home swayed as the winds picked up and the storm roared into a full-blown blizzard. Walter warmed up the vehicle, inched, and maneuvered it in as close as he could get to the church and the swaying ceased. They were edgy about still being there, but didn’t speak about it. They made supper and ate without saying much. Watched the windows. Listened to the angry winds. Johnny tried telephoning Aurora later that evening to see if she’d gotten to her destination. The cell phone wouldn’t

Page 396 work. “All I get,” he told them, “is noisy fuzz again. I hope she’s okay.” Cassandra dialed the number an hour later and had no better luck. “We’ll try after this storm passes. Could be the towers are out or down or something.” She hoped the or something wasn’t demon mischief and that Aurora was safe. If anything happened to that woman, Johnny would be devastated. “At least we still have television reception.” His eyes, as they’d been for hours, were glued to the flickering screen that was now showing a special on Hawaiian vacations. Sun. Beaches. Hot sand. No demons in sight. At ten o’clock, the television news reported nothing about the burning of Ash Hill. The local channels were only interested in the unseasonable blizzard. It didn’t surprise her. “In this storm, no one could see the damage anyway.” Johnny made excuses. He was in his lounging outfit, the one with John Lennon’s bespectacled young face on the front; sipping a cup of hot chocolate as the snow drifted past the kitchen window. His face was shadowed with weariness. “I hope we don’t have any uninvited guests tonight. My money’s on the holy ground staving them off.” Sarah had lingered at the table. “It’s puzzling no one’s said anything about the town being burned down or the missing people, don’t you think?” Being the loving wife, she’d tucked Walter in bed hours earlier. He’d been unable to keep his eyes open, and fearing there might be trouble later, he’d gone to bed while he could grab some sleep. “That no one got away to call?” “The demons must have hit swiftly and in great numbers. Overpowered the townspeople.” Cassandra was as tired as Walter and Johnny, but she didn’t dare sleep. Something was going on in the woods. Something was about to happen. Soon. Let Walter sleep and the others rest and enjoy their time together. They’d need that energy. “Go to bed, too, Cassie,” Johnny gently urged her. “You’re

Page 397 exhausted. Sarah and I will stay up and keep watch until dawn and then someone else can take over.” “I shouldn’t. With Walter asleep I should remain awake. Only me and Walter will know when the demons are out there again. Only we can see or hear them.” “Cassie, they’re not coming back tonight, the storm’s still raging out there,” Sarah chimed in. “You need rest. Get some. We depend on you and Walter. You’re the ones with the magic swords.” She smiled and there was the old carefree Sarah. Her friend. Her sister. “Go to bed. Johnny and I will turn down the lights, promise to be quiet and watch for the enemy. “You know, I might not be able to see them, but I’m sure I’ll feel when they’re out there. I’ll feel when we’re in danger. I’ll get you and Walter up immediately. I promise.” Cassandra yawned, stretched. She was so tired her eyesight was blurred. “You talked me into it.” It wouldn’t take much for her to sleep this night. Her body was already dozing. Her mind was numb. “Wake me if you hear anything strange outside or if Aurora calls, would you?” She handed Johnny her cell phone. “We’ll do that,” he replied bravely. Looking at his familiar face, she had to smile. He was trying so hard to be courageous and she’d never loved him more than at that moment…in the soft light from the snow-filtered windows in the middle of a demon war. She made her bed and crawled into it. It didn’t make any difference that Sarah and Johnny were whispering and making noise a few feet away. She was out of it as soon as her head touched the pillow. She dreamed of Manasseh. Not the human Father Manasseh she knew, but his true angel form in a radiant white robe and glorious gleaming wings that reached towards the sky. He was so beautiful her soul cried—and seeing him gave her the peace that had been eluding her. Tomorrow, Cassandra, when you wake, go to the church and to the people you find there. Testify about what you have seen and

Page 398 done; what is to come. Tell them God loves them and is waiting to see them in heaven. Tell them to go forth, spread the truth, and the word that Rapture is coming, the Second Coming of the messiah and Armageddon. Bear witness. Be Patient. Then leave this place and travel south into Arkansas. You have an appointment there. In the dream, Cassandra asked, what of the demons in the woods? They will follow you wherever you go. They are everywhere. Be vigilant for the war has been declared. From now on they will openly hunt you and try to kill you and others like you. W hy did you forsake us in the battle last night? W here were you? Dream Cassandra had to know. Fear not, we were there and guarding over all of you. You were wise to retreat. That was why I told you to flee. The time is not right for you to face the legions. Soon…when your strength has grown. But for now you must live to fight other battles. Cassandra asked, how many of the people of Ash Hill are dead? Most. You will meet survivors in the church tomorrow. In the dream she posed one last question. Is this the way it’s going to be, Manasseh, knowing so many will die and not being able to save them; watching the world tear itself apart as evil runs free? It is God’s will and foretold for these are the end times. Save those you can and destroy the enemy when you find them. Yet remember these are not your only tasks. Bring the word of God to the unbelievers. Bring them to Christ. Guide those who seek the Light. Protect those who would be of the Light. Now go, Cassandra, south into Arkansas. You will be guided when the time comes to what you must do next. **** When Cassandra got up the next morning, the storm had stopped. There were cars parked around them and people quietly trudging through the deep snow of the parking lot to the open doors of the church.

Page 399 “You see all those people?” Sarah asked as Cassandra passed her on the way to the bathroom, in her hands a bundle of blue jeans, underwear, and a shirt. “I see them.” Her voice was loud so her roommates could hear. “Everyone, time to get up. We’re going to church.” She entered the tiny bathroom and shut the door. “What about the demons?” Johnny demanded and waited for an answer from her. “We’re not to worry about them this morning,” Cassandra said through the bathroom door. When she got out, fully dressed, she explained. “We’re supposed to go to church and testify.” “Testify?” Emerging from the bridal suite in street clothes, Walter made his way into the living area. Sarah, rubbing her sleepy face and still in her robe, padded in behind him. In the kitchenette, she plugged in the coffee pot she’d had ready to go from the night before. Cassandra encapsulated her dream for everyone and what Manasseh had relayed. “Besides the fighting this is something we have to begin doing right now. We have to tell people what’s happening and what’s to come.” Uncle George was sitting up in bed, stretching. He’d aged twenty years in the last month and had lost a lot of weight. Physically, she wasn’t sure how much more of their new bizarre life he could take. She hugged him and wished him a good morning. The cat that’d been sleeping under the covers with him, popped out and Sarah let it out the door to do its business. It’d scratch on the outside when it wanted back in. It never stayed out too long. It was a smart cat. “Testify? Fantastic.” Her uncle seemed truly delighted to hear it. “I’ve been waiting for this and have been secretly preparing sermons and answers to the questions they’ll probably ask. I’ve always had a hankering to be a preacher, did you know that, Cassie?”

Page 400 “Ellie mentioned it once or twice. That you were headed in that direction when you met her, but falling in love with her was the end of that.” “It sure was. But I’ve loved the Lord all my life. Just being able to tell people that soon we’re going to be with Him and in heaven, gives me great joy. Even under the circumstances.” “Then get up and get dressed. Church is starting shortly and you’re going to get your chance to preach.” Cassandra brushed her hair, grabbed a quick cup of coffee, as the others got ready. Slogging their way through the white stuff, slipping and sliding on the ice, they made their way to the church. Inside, the people knelt in the pews, heads bowed as Father Carlos, with hands folded in front of him, led them in prayer. Cassandra was happy to see Father Carlos had survived. Good. She’d liked him the first time she’d met him and when he’d married Sarah and Walter. A short man with wiry hair and large brown glasses, and today unshaven, he lifted his face. She registered the confused shock in his eyes when he saw the swords at their sides. It was a look that was mirrored in many of the faces of the congregation. There had to be sixty people, in various stages of undress, in robes under their coats and some with no coats on at all. Hands were bandaged and hair was singed. Skin blackened and smudged. Some had cuts and bruises on their arms or faces. All were frightened. The priest spoke trancelike about the townspeople, the friends they’d lost, and about the fires, and the alien monstrosities that some of his congregation swore they’d seen and that had assaulted them. He kept looking around as if he expected the imagined creatures to appear out of nowhere and fall upon them. “We don’t know why this cataclysm has come on us. We don’t know who and what these creatures are some of you say have invaded our town and murdered our friends and neighbors. The phone lines have been cut and until this

Page 401 morning none of our cell phones worked, we think, because of the storm. Most of the town’s buildings were set afire yesterday—we don’t know by whom really—and razed to the ground. “I know a lot of you have spent the night in your cars or in hiding and I’m offering the church as sanctuary. I’m sure help is on its way, should be soon. It’s the…storm…that’s kept us inaccessible and aid from arriving. I’m sure.” He faltered, appeared as if he was going to pass out at the podium, then rallied and forged on, “I’m at a loss to explain what’s occurred here, my friends. I don’t have the answers you’ve come to me for.” His hands motioned unsure in the air. “I’m sorry.” Cassandra, with George and Walter behind her, made their way to the front. “Father Carlos, we have answers, we know what’s going on, and we’re here to tell you what it is.” The congregation hushed as the priest turned his attention to Walter. Spying Sarah standing at the entrance, he said, “I remember you. I married you two in the garden a few days ago. Other than that one meeting, you’re strangers here. Who are you that you know what we don’t?” Uncle George stepped up, then seeing the fear in the faces around him, his nervousness appeared to subside. He told them what they’d been afraid to hear, but needed to all the same—and some accepted his words. Not all. He told them that the monstrosities that some of them had seen were demons and let them know about the war and the coming end of the world. “A warning, the demons can pass themselves off as humans or they can be invisible. Some of you have seen their true form. They’re here now among us to begin the final war against mankind. It’s demons that have besieged your town, set it ablaze, and butchered all your neighbors and friends. I’m sorry. That’s the truth.” She’d never forget the looks of disbelieving horror on some faces or, on the ones who’d seen the demons, the looks of pure joy. The worshippers were riotous with questions.

Page 402 They mobbed her uncle wanting to know what was going to happen now and how he, an old man, knew these things. Many wept and many prayed. Many glared at her and her friends with undisguised antagonism. Cassandra mused on how many were unbelievers who’d been pretending to believe and if they’d make it to heaven. There was still time. Walter shushed the congregation, moving his hands up and down. “Let the man finish,” he shouted. The crowd quieted a little. “He has more to tell you. Ask him or us questions. We’ll answer as best we can. Believe us if you want, don’t believe if you dare. But, I swear to you, these are the end times and you must pay attention to what we tell you. Hear our warnings. Consider them. Then it’s up to you.” Her Uncle George and Walter tried to convince the parishioners of the truth, but most of them refused to believe for they hadn’t seen the demons yet. Shadows, yes. Shapes in the dark…nothing clearly. Some of them thought a fire had gutted the town; mass insanity and panic had made everyone flee and the storm had kept the missing ones from communicating. They argued there weren’t devil’s legions ravaging the earth or that the world was ending—they couldn’t accept it—and nearly came to blows defending it, but Father Carlos stepped in and stopped his flock from punishing the messengers. But some went down on their knees, their heads bent in supplication. It’s the end days come to pass, as Revelations foretold…. No…only insane people would believe that! We must prepare for the hard days to come…. We must not be made fools of! Since the beginning of time people have predicted the end…and yet here we still are! Will you believe these strangers? Never! Look what has happened to our town…. I saw something in the streets last night. I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t human. It had fangs and was as tall as a giant….

Page 403 …wings as large as a glider…. Your damn imagination. Get real! Hallucinations! We all know you drink…. Someone threw a hymnal at her uncle’s head. He ducked and the book hit the edge of the altar. Cassandra was ready to go after the person, a man in a dirty blue coat with wild hair, but her uncle waved her back. He finished his speech. In the end, unsure whether to trust what he’d been told, Father Carlos said he’d pray to God for guidance and would follow his heart. Many of his congregation echoed that sentiment. An hour later, the five messengers exited the church. “It’s up to them to believe it or not.” Cassandra stood outside beneath a cloudy sky. The air was heavy with moisture. More snow was on the way. “We’ve done what we were supposed to do. Soon enough they’ll have more proof than even they can ignore. When they can all see the demons.” “Except then it’ll be too late to catch the first bus out, so to speak.” Uncle George snorted, shivering on the front steps of the church. From inside they could hear boisterous quarrelling going on. “Ellie warned me,” he whispered, “this was how they’d react in the beginning and not to take it to heart too much. The early days are still here. We did our best. It’ll get easier.” “You think anyone believed us?” Cassandra cautiously placed her feet so she wouldn’t fall as they descended the icecovered steps. Walter helped her uncle down them and through the snow. The ground was so icy he’d almost fallen a couple of times on the way over to the church. “I think more believed than you know,” the old man said as Walter and Sarah helped him into the RV. “They’re just plumb scared. Need time to take it all in. As you all did. Remember?” “I remember,” she grumbled. After they’d climbed into the bus, Cassandra turned aside

Page 404 to Walter. “We need to leave here.” “And go where?” “South down the highway into Arkansas is all I know. More instructions to come later.” Her eyes inspected the wood line through the window. There were no fiends skulking around. Where were they and who were they torturing or butchering now? Don’t think about it, she brooded. Move on. “Then down the highway we go. At least the weather should be better heading south,” Walter said. “Wagons onward!” **** They left what remained of Ash Hill. There’d been no snowplows out, so it wasn’t easy getting to the main highway, yet somehow Walter managed it. When they got a ways down the road, they pulled off in a neighboring town and stopped at the local police station. She and Walter went in and reported what they’d seen in Ash Hill. The fires. Missing people. Phones not working because the lines were down. Everything but the fact that demons from hell had done it. That way there’d be some assistance for the survivors. The officer on duty, Joe Baden, took the information without any emotion, good or bad, on his face. “Yep…whole town burned down…no people anywhere… nobody knows about it. Okeydokey. We’ll look into it,” he rattled off brusquely. “We’ll send a squad car to check it out. Thanks folks for the heads up.” When they walked out, they heard him and his cohorts laughing. Wait until they get to Ash Hill. They won’t be laughing anymore, she thought grimly. They slid back on the road and Walter kept driving. Slowly. **** Days later, Cassandra lounged in the passenger seat, appreciating the scenery. Snowball, curled in her lap, was purring. There was snow everywhere. The blizzard had lasted

Page 405 far longer than anyone could have foreseen and blanketed five states. They’d spent more time stuck in snowdrifts and ditches than they had traveling because of it. A tediously slow journey, it was taking a long time to get where they were going. Wherever that was. Manasseh had been mute since Ash Hill. The others at the table were playing Scrabble. She enjoyed listening to their conversation. It made her feel like they were on vacation. Snowball jumped from her lap and a minute later she heard it meow for table scraps in the back somewhere and then the meows stopped. Someone must have given the cat something to eat. Things almost seemed normal. Almost. It was late in the day. Dusk was seeping in. They’d listened attentively to the news the last three days. Ash Hill and what had taken place there hadn’t been mentioned once. Strange. It was as if a cloud had descended and hidden the town from the world’s eyes. “I bet that’s the demons’ doing somehow,” Walter conjectured. They’d finally heard from Aurora that morning. She’d let them know she was with her mother and daughter. They were snowed in, but doing fine. Aurora had talked about her home and Ash Hill. Before her troubles, she’d had a lot of friends there. “It was my town, though it’d seen better days. I can’t bear to think of all my old friends and neighbors that are now dead.” She swore to be careful, keep in touch, and wished them good fortune on the road. “If God wishes it, I’ll see you soon.” Eventually, Aurora would be with them and Cassandra already thought of her as another friend who’d protect her back in the coming war. She was going to need as many of those as she could get. “You miss the circus, Walter?” Cassandra lifted her eyes from the whiteness out the window to rest on Walter’s face. When he drove the worry lines smoothed out and his gentle

Page 406 brown eyes smiled. Driving relaxed him. He liked traveling. “I do. They were my family. I pray what’s left of them are still alive.” He looked back at her and his gaze brushed over her face then returned to the road. The stretch of highway ahead of them had been cleared and they were making good time for once. They crossed over into Arkansas and the snow on the ground and trees began to melt. Once, when she glanced out the window, she saw demons on the side of the road doing something to the telephone lines. They looked human, but they weren’t. “Should we pull over and go after them?” Walter asked. He’d seen them, too. She didn’t have time to say yes before she looked again and the demons had hoofed it into the woods as if they’d known they’d been seen. “No. They’re already gone and I don’t want us to walk into a trap of some sort when we’re supposed to be somewhere. Manasseh never said a word about us stopping anywhere and engaging the enemy. Best we keep going.” Anyway, she’d been seeing demons everywhere all day. Driving in the cars going by. Hurrying along the roads, in and out of houses they’d passed, and hiding behind trees along the highway as they glared fiercely out at the traffic. If they stopped to fight every one, they’d never get where they were going. They were searching for her and Walter and others like them. She always looked away as quickly as she could and kept her mind blank so they wouldn’t realize she’d recognized them. So far it’d worked. They weren’t chased. Walter’s voice went down in volume so only she could hear. “I’m never going to see any of my circus friends again and I miss the ones that died that night. It breaks my heart, since I know there’s also not going to be another season. The circus is through. For me, that life is over.” “I’m sorry. We’re going to keep losing people we care about and we’ll have to learn to deal with it.” “That’s just it, I don’t want to learn to deal with it.” “I don’t, either, but we don’t have any choice.

Page 407 “Now tell me some more stories of the Big Top…about Big Nose and Big Feet and the animals.” She never grew tired of hearing Walter weave stories about the circus life he’d loved. It kept her mind off what was ahead of them. An hour later, Walter took them through Little Rock. “Do you know where we’re going and who we’re looking for?” “No, but I’m sure we’ll be enlightened when we get there.” “Uh, huh.” Walter twisted the wheel. Sarah joined them. “Anyone want a ham sandwich? Just made them fresh myself.” Both took a sandwich from the plate. They were eating them when Walter asked his next question, “Cassie, you see that demon, Rayner, lately? Is he still stalking us?” She about choked. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since the night he cautioned us about the demon army. I told him to leave us alone or else.” “Or else you’d kill him?” “Something like that. I have the sneaking suspicion he’s creeping around here somewhere and will pop up when we least expect him.” Disgust in her voice. “He seems to do that a lot.” “He’s a strange demon all right. I still can’t understand why he saved Sarah that night in the fire, but because of it I owe him something. Don’t know what. But I do.” She sighed. She’d been thinking the same thing. “That’s why I didn’t cut his head off the last time I saw him, yet I still don’t trust him.” “Could be he took your advice and we won’t see him again.” “We can only pray.” Walter laughed. They talked about what they could do to improve their fighting abilities after they crossed the Arkansas state line. There was nothing falling from the skies and the streets were only lightly flecked in snow, but the sun flared cold and distant, the air was freezing and dull. The world didn’t

Page 408 feel like the world Cassandra had always known. It felt treacherous. Alien. Even the colors of the sky, a dull mauve, and the smell of the air seemed strange. On the outskirts of a large town named Arkadelphia, she heard a whisper in her ear. Turn off on 53. W heelen Springs. Go to the Applebee’s there on Main Street. Cassandra gave Walter directions. It was around five o’clock. “If it’s within our budget, do you think we could swing a meal at a real restaurant? We might as well eat if we’re there.” Walter had turned out to be very good with money and he’d unanimously been elected their treasurer. “I think we can if none of us are gluttons. And, oh, no booze.” “No booze is a good rule anyway, though I don’t drink myself. I see enough weird stuff without it.” She grinned. “It wouldn’t do to be tipsy when the next demon attack occurs.” “No, it wouldn’t.” “I’ll split a meal with my uncle. He doesn’t eat much.” “You can have you own meal, Cassie. I was teasing you. We can afford to splurge a little and, truth is, we’d better take advantage of the luxuries like restaurants now while we can. Me? I’m going to have a big fat prime rib. Maybe even dessert.” “I’ll pitch in. I have money,” Sarah suddenly said and Cassandra laughed as the RV turned off on Highway 53. They saw the sign for Wheelen Springs next to the billboard for Applebee’s.

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Chapter Twenty-Six Cassandra and Obadiah It was growing dark as they entered Applebee’s. They never went anywhere without the swords. After Ash Hill, along the way to Arkansas, they’d picked up long coats at a thrift shop to hide their weapons under. Nice warm coats, too. Walter had fashioned leather belts with a loop to tie the swords’ handles on. For being makeshift, they worked well enough. It made Cassandra feel a whole lot safer with the sword at her side. The restaurant was decorated for Halloween in hanging witches and cardboard cats with their backs raised. Ceramic pumpkins with candles flickering inside squatted in the middle of the tables among the napkins and utensils. Most of the waiters and waitresses were in costume. She thought the costumes were cute, especially the greeter outfitted as a pink rabbit. Cute little bunny nose. Cute big fluffy white bunny paws. Whiskers that twitched when the girl smiled. “I’d forgotten Halloween is just days away,” Sarah said as they slid into chairs at a large table in the rear of the room, so the swords could stay hidden under their coats. “It used to be my hottest season for reading fortunes. I’d make a wallet full of dough. Wow. That seems like a lifetime ago now.” Smiling at the memories, she opened the menu and snuggled beside Walter. They held hands and kissed every chance they got. Johnny made silent faces at them, but Cassandra thought it was sweet. It must be difficult, she thought observing them, trying to be happy while the world was going to hell. She didn’t

Page 410 begrudge them that. More power to them. Let them be happy for as long as they had left. Having the newlyweds with them and seeing their cheery faces every day reminded all of them that there were still loving people in the world. Still joy. Still hope. “You ever going to get those new tarot cards?” Cassandra asked Sarah. It surprised her when Sarah looked up from the menu and shook her head. “Nah, that’s over. I don’t need cards to tell me what’s coming next. For once I don’t want to know. Don’t want no demons getting to us that way, either. Better I stay away from the cards and the Ouija board. Lately it seems to me it’s Halloween all the time.” “I don’t blame you. It is for the best. And heck, don’t feel bad, I’ve been living Halloween for years,” Cassandra cracked humorlessly as she perused the menu and then the other people around them. Beneath the excitement of eating out ran a rippling unease. She was intensely sensitive that there were demons nearby, outside somewhere, and wondered if they were hunting for them or just passing through. Since the battle in Ash Hill, her power to sense demons had grown so much stronger. If they were around she knew it, a sort of uncomfortable itch. And she was itching like hell all over. She covertly caressed her blade’s steel beneath the coat with her fingers and felt secure. It was strange how quickly she’d adapted to being a weapon-toting demon killer. Now, she felt undressed without it. “Walter,” she said softly, “it’s good we have our weapons with us. I think we’re going to need them.” Walter flinched. “Now?” “Not long.” “Great. I’ll eat fast.” A teenage boy with spiky ebony hair and wearing a superman costume strode up to their table. “Can I take your orders?”

Page 411 “Weird hairdo for superman.” Sarah gawked at the boy. “Superman needs to stay up with the styles, too,” he crowed, gingerly touching a spike. “I guess.” Sarah couldn’t take her eyes off the hair. Cassandra had to hide her smile. They picked out and recited what they each desired for supper and eagerly ate it as Cassandra continued to scrutinize the other patrons around them. There were about twenty people in the restaurant and none of them clicked with her as being the reason they were there. It’d crossed her mind that one: they were there to fight demons. Or two: they were there to meet others like her, Walter, and Aurora. It could be something else, but she didn’t think so. When she’d first met Aurora, a sort of electrical current had tingled through her and when she looked at Walter, even now, there was a rainbow aura pulsating around him. No one else in the restaurant gave her a shock or had an aura. So if they were there to collect another soldier, the person wasn’t there yet. On the other hand, the demons she sensed were nearby hadn’t caused any trouble so far. Which suited her just fine. It’d be nice not to be bothered while they were eating. She finished her barbecued ribs and was enjoying a slice of lemon meringue pie when she saw a middle-aged man walk into the restaurant. He was dressed like someone who didn’t care what he looked like; his clothes, plaid coat and gray sock cap, were worn and stained. He had a straggly beard, long gray streaked hair, and eyes that were feverish with melancholy. He had a bright-multicolored aura dancing fiercely around his body. Bingo. The man wandered towards their table. As he passed them, his eyes met Cassandra’s. He halted briefly, stared at her as if he recognized her, and then moved on. His eyes hadn’t lingered on her scars as a lot of people’s did and it was

Page 412 points in his favor in her book. He seated himself at the table behind them. She caught him stealing looks at her and she smiled, waved, and he put his nose into the menu. Ah, he was shy— oh, that was so sweet—or he didn’t know yet what he was. He doesn’t know yet, the truth came to her. That’s when she sensed the demon come in. Her attention shifted from the stranger behind her to the door. It was Rayner in all his demon glory that only she and Walter, and perhaps the guy behind them, could see. For heaven’s sake…what on earth did he want now? He sauntered up to her. Walter had his hand on his sword and was coming to his feet, but she grabbed his wrist and shook her head. “Wait a minute. It’s Rayner. Let’s hear what he has to say before you cut his head off.” “Hello again, Cassie.” Rayner didn’t get too near her, doubtlessly recollecting what she’d said she’d do to him if they met again. “Miss me?” He flaunted a teasing smile. “You didn’t cross my mind once. What do you want?” She stood up. No one else around them was watching. Then Cassandra heard, “God no, not another one,” growled by the bearded man behind them. She twisted her head and caught him gaping at Rayner, pure terror on his face. She faced the demon and leaned towards him. “Rayner, in a second I’m going to rid the world of you unless you tell me what you’re doing here. Make it quick. Why are you still following us?” “When are you going to understand that I’m not out to hurt you or your friends, Cassie? I’m your devoted servant, your friend who’s come to notify you that a carload of my associates has been tracking you since you left Ash Hill. They’re in the parking lot now plotting how to invade this restaurant and eradicate everyone in here, including you and your, ah, gang. There are six of them. They were commanded to wait for reinforcements, but want to impress their superiors so they’re not waiting for the others. I had to warn you.

Page 413 “Oh, yeah, and there’s something else. Behind them are phalanxes of fresh battle troops led by Brynmor. That one I warned you of? A demon army larger than has ever been raised. He won’t stop until you and your friends are all dead. He’s being considered now, so he must succeed.” “Considered?” Rayner edged closer, and Walter tensed up. The man behind them was muttering to himself, huddled as far into the corner as he could go. He was staring at Rayner. “For promotion to Commander, at least. They’re bringing up the highest levels of demons from the realm below to lead us. Ancients with immense powers the like of which no human on earth has ever seen before. Two of you,” Rayner cocked his head at Walter, “and your enchanted swords won’t be able to conquer them.” Rayner actually tried to look concerned, but it was hard to tell. His visage was so ugly. “I came to beg you to run. You’re not prepared to fight the power of those coming for you.” “Why are you doing this, Rayner? This is war and, for the life of me, I can’t understand why you’re betraying your own side…unless, as Walter here suggested, you’re a spy.” The demon threw his head up, snarled, his eyes narrowed. “We’ve spoken of this before. There’s no time to go into it again. The army is right behind me. I only came to warn you— again—and now I must be going.” And in a puff of smoke he was gone. No subtlety anymore. Walter was looking at the place Rayner had been. “He must be afraid of being caught by his comrades. The coward. I still don’t trust him. But I don’t know why he’s doing what he’s doing, either. According to you and your uncle, so far, he hasn’t steered us wrong.” Her uncle made himself heard. “I believe him. Let’s stampede out of here.” “Uncle, you, Sarah, and Johnny go back to the bus. Now,” Cassandra said, gobbling the rest of her dessert in rapid bites, grabbing her purse, and pushing it into Sarah’s waiting hands.

Page 414 Everyone else was done eating. Walter gestured Superman over so he could pay the check. A wave of nausea hit her and she knew it was too late. “Never mind, they’re here.” Desperation made her voice quake. “You three hide under the table. Now! Don’t put your heads up until Walter and I say it’s clear.” “I want to help this time,” Johnny demanded, as her uncle and Sarah slid under the table. “I’ll go get the gun.” Some of the restaurant’s patrons giggled at Sarah and Uncle George under the table. “No, Johnny!” She reached out and grabbed his wrist. “There’s no time and you can’t see the demons, anyway, so get under the table, too. Please! Don’t make me worry about you more than I already do.” Her brother obeyed in the nick of time. The demons, not even in human disguises but invisible, swept into the restaurant, yet instead of heading for her and Walter, they sprang at the nearest table of humans. Armed with hatchets, long-bladed knives and spiky metal sticks, that must have weighed hundreds of pounds, they fell on the humans. She’d never seen weapons like those before. They looked so real. So lethal. Being cut up by invisible weapons, blood and gore flying everywhere, the customers screamed and charged for the exits. It was bedlam. Cassandra and Walter threw themselves at the intruders, swords drawn. There was no sense in hiding what they were or what they had to do with lives at stake. The clash was short. They kept away from the demon’s weapons and every time they used their own swords, the blades’ power grew. Their enemies’ weapons bounced off the silver blades and shattered into pieces as if made of tin. The first three demons went into oblivion howling and spitting. The next two, seeing their weapons couldn’t kill the humans, split for the doors. Walter ran them down and cut their heads off as they

Page 415 clambered to get out. The final demon turned around and launched itself at her and she brought her blade down on its back. The sword blazed and the carcass disintegrated as the others had, bit by bit, until there was nothing left in the room but wafting ashy smoke. The restaurant was empty. The mortals had vacated the premises. The demons sent back to hell or wherever they went after they were destroyed. Even the restaurant’s employees, Superman included, had fled the premises. Johnny crawled out from beneath the table, blinking like he’d been in a cave. “Wow, we could steal these uneaten dinners and take them along,” he joked. “No one would know. We’d have tasty leftovers for days.” “Don’t you dare,” she scolded and pushed him, Sarah, and her uncle out the door. There were people hiding behind cars on the parking lot, grumbling in groups; some were bleeding or bawling into cell phones, trying to make sense of what they’d gone through. They’d seen people hurt from no apparent cause and two humans fighting thin air with swords, but there’d been no one there. But they’d heard strange noises and seen the destruction. There were cars on fire with their owners nowhere to be seen. In the distance, the wail of police cars squealed their way. Ambulance sirens were coming nearer. Someone had called 911. “We have to go,” she said. “Before the cops arrive and ask questions we can’t answer…and before the rest of the demon army gets here.” As they fled to the RV, her uncle yelled at the people outside. “These are the end days! What you’ve seen here were God’s soldiers killing invisible demons from hell. It’s true. Time is short, so go to church, unburden your soul, and make peace with God. If you have no church, pastor, or priest, find one. Give your heart and soul to God before it’s too late!” More of the restaurant’s customers left the area.

Page 416 “Guess they didn’t believe me,” her uncle said indignantly. “Guess they didn’t.” She clutched his arm, dragging him along as he yelled out one last thing to the remaining stragglers. “The Rapture is near! Now get out of here because there are more demons on the way.” They must have thought he was a religious fanatic or an insane old man. The last of the people on the parking lot jumped in their cars and drove wildly away. Maybe they were afraid she and Walter would come after them with their swords. “Let’s go,” she shouted to her friends. “If Rayner was telling the truth, we have a legion of demons behind us.” They climbed onto the bus and Walter slid behind the wheel. There was a loud pounding on the closed door. “Let me in, I have to talk to you!” “Wait a minute, Walter.” Cassandra opened the door. Outside stood the man in the plaid coat and the rainbow aura that’d been staring at her in the restaurant. She pulled him inside the bus and they drove off. “Come on in and sit down. Who are you?” Cassandra directed the man to a chair at the table as the bus shifted gears and crunched rock getting out of the parking lot. “My name’s Obadiah Manning and—heaven help me if I’m not going stark raving mad—I can see those creatures you were fighting. I don’t think those other people could. But I did.” “Well then, you’re the one we’re looking for. The reason we were in Applebee’s in the first place. And have we got a lot to tell you.” Walter looked over his shoulder, studied the man and nodded at Cassandra. “I agree. He’s why we were there.” His eyes went back to the road. His hands on the wheel were clenched. “Now, where we going, boss?” “Just get to the main highway.” She swung around to Obadiah. “Where do you live?” “Not too far away.”

Page 417 “Please give the guy at the wheel directions on how to get there.” Obadiah did. “It’d be about the only way I’d get home…my car’s back there in flames.” “Head towards his place,” she said to Walter as Obadiah collapsed in a chair. “We’ll leave from there.” They were speeding. The bus knocked around on the road. The truck bouncing along behind it, a constant shadow. “So I’m not off my rocker?” was the first thing Obadiah blurted out. “I am seeing beastlike ogres and other humanshaped horrors and they are after us?” “Demons,” Uncle George corrected him before she could. “They’re demons sent from hell to begin the final war of good versus evil. Sent to persecute and annihilate us.” He, as Sarah and Johnny, were sitting at the table, holding on through the rough ride, watching the stranger. “For freaking God’s sake. I was so afraid of that.” Obadiah pushed back in his chair. The bus rocked and he almost fell over. The chair came quickly back to the table. His eyes blinked as he groaned softly. “So there are demons among us. I’m not just seeing and hearing things. And the end of the world is near, is what you’re saying?” “You got it.” Uncle George opened Ellie’s bible, his fingers held his place on the page. “Good grief.” Obadiah slightly rocked his head. “I’m not dreaming? Not crazy?” “Don’t you wish?” Johnny snorted cynically. “Obadiah,” her uncle queried the newcomer, “is an unusual name, isn’t it? The man had taken his coat and wool cap off. His hair was long, unkempt, and his manner distracted. He never stopped looking out the windows. “My mother was religious. Obadiah was a prophet in the Old Testament. The name is Hebrew and means ‘servant of God’.” “Appropriate,” Uncle George clucked. “Cause that’s what you are.”

Page 418 “I’m what?” Obadiah’s head swung around and his mouth dropped open. “How long have you been seeing demons, Obadiah?” Cassandra unstrapped her sword and laid it on the floor by her feet within easy reach. She sat down at the table, or else the motion of the speeding bus would have knocked her on her butt. The man took his attention off her uncle and focused on her. He had the saddest eyes she’d ever seen. Pale blue-gray. The color of icy water. “For months. Though I’ve been feeling something’s wrong in the world since my wife died last year. I began hallucinating, seeing things I couldn’t explain, about the time I closed my shop three months ago. I thought I was just…unwell. After tonight, with what I saw in that restaurant, I know it’s far worse than that.” “It is. Demons are hiding everywhere, gathering their growing ranks, when they’re not attacking us, and the world’s going bonkers.” Johnny put his hand out for the man to shake. “Hi, I’m Johnny Graystone and these two sword wielders are my sister Cassandra Graystone and Walter Garafeinni there behind the wheel. The old man is our Uncle George, our Bible expert, and the other young lady is Walter’s wife, Sarah, our resident clairvoyant.” “Nice to meet you all, I think,” the man said, clasping everyone’s hand when they were held out to him. “Though I should thank you for saving everyone’s skin back there, including mine. I couldn’t believe it when you two started swinging at those creatures with those swords of yours. You sent them packing. Exterminated them.” “You’re welcome, but get used to it. Whether you’re conscious of it or not, you’re one of us, Obadiah.” She smiled encouragingly. Since the minute she’d first seen him in the restaurant, she’d felt strangely drawn to him. Without her consent, her hand reached out and touched his. Embarrassed, she drew it back. He looked at her hand and then her face. “And what’s one of us?” His smile was bemused.

Page 419 On second look, the man wasn’t as old as she’d thought. He carried the weight of an unhappy life and that was what made him look older than he was. He could be in his early forties or younger. “We’ve been told that God calls us his soldiers.” She then delicately enlightened him on what being a soldier of God meant, about the powers and the responsibilities. Obadiah wilted in his chair and she couldn’t help but pity him as disbelief and shock took turns flickering across his face.. She was pleased they’d found him, but after the conflict in the restaurant, she was sapped. Forming words and thoughts was such an effort. It was as if the sword siphoned off her energy every time she used it. Perhaps it did. “You a person of faith, Obadiah?” “Not really. Oh, my mother was and I attended church as a kid. I’m familiar with the myths about the end of the world.” He smiled again, his lips hidden by the beard. “She used to say these were the end times, too. She dragged me to church; made me pray for hours on my knees. I believed when I was a kid. Then I grew up and bad things happened to me and my faith dribbled away.” “Bad things?” “My son, Benjamin, was kidnapped eighteen years ago when he was six years old. It broke my wife Martha’s heart, and mine, and changed our lives forever. We never found him. He was our only child.” He hesitated as if revealing this was hard for him. “Three years ago,” he went on, a stricken look shadowing his face, “Martha developed a heart condition. She was sick a long time and died in a lot of pain last year. She was the love of my life. My reason for living. Since she’s been gone nothing matters anymore. Top it all off, her medical bills, her care, bankrupted me. I had to sell the gift shop that’s been in my family for fifty years. I lost the house Martha and I built together. Everything’s gone now.

Page 420 “I’m alone...broke…plus…I start seeing these horrid creatures everywhere.” Obadiah met Cassandra’s gaze unflinchingly. “God had forsaken me, or so I thought. And I was losing my sanity, as well.” “God hasn’t forsaken you, Obadiah. He’s had plans for you all along. Your tragedies and self-doubts are part of where He’s been leading you. What you’ve gone through is what all of us have gone through. We’ve all,” she indicated the others with a jab of her thumb, “lost people and things we’ve loved along the way. My Uncle George here says it’s to prepare us for what’s to come. All of us have this in common. “We’ve also come to suspect that some of these misfortunes, if not all, were caused by demons through the years trying to hurt us, tear down our mental health or get rid of us early on in our lives. Before we grew up and ended up…here.” And demons probably had something to do with his young son’s disappearance as well, she’d bet. But she couldn’t tell him that. He was in enough pain. “Here?” Obadiah looked around, amused disbelief taking the place of fright on his face. “Bouncing down the road in an RV with a bunch of strangers I’ve just met who could be or could not be as delusional as I am? A bus full of nuts?” “Not here in that respect, but here, full grown, alive, and ready to battle demons for God in the final battles. In case you don’t know it yet, and you’ll find out soon enough, we have powers that other humans don’t have. Me, for instance? I can see when people are going to die…I can heal with my hands…and I can fight demons because, like you, I can see them. “We’re a force to be reckoned with and the demons know it. That’s why they’ve been following us; attacked us in that restaurant. They want us dead. They want you dead. Walter and I are soldiers. So are you.” “Let me get this straight, I’m a little confused. I’m one of these soldiers for God and now I have to start fighting demons, too; my old life is over and I have to snatch up a sword to

Page 421 kill these creatures only we can see and that until only a few minutes ago I thought I was hallucinating?” “You got it.” Cassandra’s lips curved upwards. She couldn’t help it. The expression on his face was humorous. He was questioning if he were batty or if the rest of them were. Oh, she could sympathize. He was most likely thinking of how he could get off the bus and far away from them. Most likely he was thinking that he didn’t want anything to do with any of it. She’d been there. “You’re not insane. You’re not delusional. Believe me. You’ve been seeing evil bestial creatures that exist. They hide behind human faces and bodies and other people can’t see them. Yet. In time you’ll understand this better. We’ll help you. Go ahead take a moment and a deep breath. Here have a cup of coffee. I don’t think you ever got one at the restaurant.” Sarah poured a cup added the sugar and a little milk that he said he wanted in it and put it in their guest’s hands. The motor home was jumping too much for her to put the cup on the table. “Don’t worry,” Cassandra promised. “It’ll make sense in time.” “How much time? I think I’m going to need a lot of it.” “Well, in fact, you don’t have much time at all. None of us do. The world doesn’t. You’re going to have to accept things and take your place in line real quick. Like now. There is a huge army of demons behind us. You said you lost your house, so where are we going?” “To a dingy apartment I’ve been renting about thirty miles away from the Applebee’s we were at. It’s not a home, but it’s a place to stay in out of the rain.” “You go thirty miles out of your way often to eat supper out?” “Not generally, but tonight I had this irresistible urge to go to that Applebee’s.” “God sent you a message, son,” her uncle said. “He wanted you to join up with us.”

Page 422 Walter turned in his seat and tapped a finger on his wristwatch. Cassandra got the message. “Since time’s short, Obadiah, and if you don’t have ties here anymore, you should come with us. We’ve been living and traveling in this motor home for a while. There’s room for you. “There’s much we could show, teach you. So much you have to know. But we can’t stay in one place long. We’re being pursued. We have to keep moving. Come with us?” “That’s generous of you, but I need to think about it. I’ve lived here all my life.” “Don’t think about it too long. Now that you’re with us, the demons know about you. You’re a target and won’t stand a chance alone. Do you really have anything holding you here?” “Who am I fooling?” he whispered to himself. He looked as old as Uncle George. His body slumped and his shoulders sagged. “No, there’s nothing and no one anymore to keep me here. All my friends have either moved away or disappeared. The town’s not what it used to be. There’s been a lot of trouble lately. Drive by shootings, unprovoked fights, and domestic violence have increased far beyond the norm. It’s gotten to a point people are afraid to go outside, especially at night. There have been so many murders and they’re not the usual kind. They’re especially sadistic, brutal. It’s incomprehensible to me how one human can do those acts to another.” “Not humans, demons,” Walter said from up front. “And it’s going to get worse. It’s going to get so bad there’ll be no place to hide.” He told Obadiah what had happened in Ash Hill. “Well, new guy, you coming with us?” Johnny cut in. “It’s not all fleeing and demon killing, you know. That’s not all we do.” He grinned. “We play cards. We have fun. Cassandra and I are musicians. We play music. And Walter and Sarah just got married and we had a heck of a party afterwards. Worse

Page 423 thing is you’d have to sleep on the air mattress in the kitchen every few nights. We’ll be taking turns getting the bedroom.” “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor. Or on the ground under the sky for that matter. I love to camp, hunt, and fish. I like those air mattresses. They’re comfy.” Cassandra could see they were persuading him. She could also see he’d be a handy man to have around. “Come with us, friend,” her uncle put his hand out and clasped the other man’s hand; shook it hard. “It’s the safest place you’ll find and among others like yourself.” “Like me.” Obadiah was watching her. He breathed in deeply. “I know I should be more cautious, shouldn’t be going off with strangers like this at the drop of a hat. But what you’ve told me feels like the truth. I sense, though I don’t know any of you well, that I can trust you. “And I’ve been searching for something in my life to give me a reason for living. I’d lost mine. This could be it.” He shut his eyes and when he opened them, he gave in. “Oh boy. What the heck. I’ll come with you. I’m ready for a big change.” “Well then, welcome, we need all the allies we can get.” Cassandra didn’t know why she did it, she wasn’t a spontaneous person, but she threw her arms around Obadiah and gave him a hug that surprised even her. His body was solid. A fragrant whiff of the outdoors filled her nose. When he’d walked past her in the restaurant she’d seen he was taller than her, not by much; and nowhere as tall as Walter. The beard kept her from seeing if he had a nice face or not. But his smile was warm and the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his strange eyes made him somehow handsome to her. Wrinkles showed age and age showed wisdom. He moved his body like a dancer and she noticed his hands were delicately long fingered. He had such small wrists. How would he ever wield a sword? Yet there was intelligence and strength in the eyes that saw the demons. If she didn’t know better she’d think she

Page 424 was falling for him. Already. So soon? Impossible. What was she, fifteen? “One last thing. I have a dog,” he confessed timidly. “A little mixed breed, partly fox terrier, named Mutt. He’s a good dog. Hardly barks at all. He comes with me.” “I have a cat named Snowball,” she said. “We’ll be one happy family.” They reached Obadiah’s apartment and picked up his clothes and personal items. He hadn’t lied. The apartment was small. Shabby. He didn’t have much. “I sold everything I had to pay the convalescent home that cared for Martha the last six months of her life when she’d been too ill to keep at home.” Again Cassandra’s heart softened to him. He’d really loved his wife. He seemed like a good man. “How much time do we have?” Obadiah asked as he was stuffing a second suitcase. “A little.” Walter picked up Obadiah’s first suitcase. “I didn’t see anyone tailing us.” “Good. I have several quick telephone calls to make. It’ll only take a few minutes.” He phoned his landlord, said he was moving out immediately; called the utilities and the phone and canceled his services. It took eleven minutes. Their new recruit was a conscientious man who didn’t like loose ends. Considerate, too. “Well, I’m ready.” Obadiah took a last look around. “Just have to be sure I have everything.” He wasn’t taking much because there wasn’t a lot of extra room in the bus. He brought along a suitcase of clothes, another suitcase full of toiletries and pictures; a tiny television, his dog, Mutt, and a bag of dog food. “I travel light. None of this stuff means anything anyway. The only thing that matters anymore to me are the memories of a lifetime in my head and my dog.” They drove away from the apartment and he only looked back once. “Good-bye, old life. Hello, new.” He didn’t say much, but she thought he’d open up when he got to know

Page 425 them better. It was hard leaving an old life behind, no matter how imperfect it had been. She should know. “Well, here’s something you’re going to need in this new life of yours.” Her uncle handed the newcomer a sword. It was similar to the ones she, Walter, and Aurora had, but with an obsidian-hued handle and blade. Obadiah held it up in his hands and rotated it in the light to get a better look as the bus swept down the highway. “Where did that come from?” She had her sword, Walter had his, and Aurora had hers wherever she was. “It was here on the table when we returned from Obadiah’s apartment,” her uncle claimed. “I think it’s a present from that angel friend of yours, Cassie.” “What angel friend?” Obadiah stopped admiring his sword in the passing streetlights. “Oh, yes,” she said, “as there are demons on earth in these end times there are also angels.” “You better tell me about this angel of yours. Tell me everything.” She gave him the story of Manasseh and Walter, who was driving, spoke of his encounter with his angel who they now knew had also been Manasseh. Then, sitting around the table, for Obadiah’s benefit, they took turns relaying their adventures from the beginning. Mostly Obadiah listened. As they spent time together, Obadiah warmed to them and they to him. He opened up a little more about his life, yet Cassandra could tell he wasn’t telling them everything. There must be subjects too painful yet to share. Give him time. She liked him. He didn’t have the gentle way about him that Walter had, Aurora’s strength, nor Johnny’s sense of humor, or even Uncle George’s wisdom, but he had this air of authority that everyone could sense. He was a born leader. He was one of them. His dog fit in, too. Mutt and Snowball faced off, Snowball hissing and flexing her claws at the dog from a safe distance,

Page 426 for five minutes or so. The two sniffed at each other and became friends. Mutt must have thought Snowball was a dog like him. They were the same size. By the end of the night the two animals were playing and chasing each other around the motor home, their antics making everyone laugh. “I think I’ve about had enough driving for one day,” Walter decided sometime after nine o’clock. “I’ve been driving all day. I don’t think anyone’s following us. Right now. So I’m pulling off the highway and parking this bus somewhere protected for the night. So we can all get some sleep.” “Fine with me,” Sarah agreed. “It’s been a long, tiring day.” She yawned and there were echoes of her sentiment. They were all tired. Walter found a church with a roomy parking lot. They shut down for the night. Cassandra and Obadiah, as the others slept, remained at the table discussing the world’s current crises, their pasts and their futures, demons and angels; their mission as she perceived it. Obadiah couldn’t get enough of any of it. As if he’d been starved for explanations, or just for human interaction, for a long time. As if he’d been lonely and knew he no longer had to be. He’d found a place where he belonged. He was one of them now.

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Chapter Twenty-Seven Cassandra Halloween came and went. They spent it fighting demons in a small town in the middle of Arkansas; escorting and protecting the trick-or-treaters that wandered too close to the dark places where demons lurked. Heaven knew how other places fared, but the night after Halloween the news reported extremely high numbers of disappearances. The other side had been busy. Manasseh paid a visit to Cassandra the day before All Hollow’s Eve. The main demon host was no longer chasing them. “They’ve been sent elsewhere. For what reason, I don’t know. You have a reprieve to acquire and learn about your growing abilities. By uniting with Obadiah, your band has become stronger. You’re ready to challenge the evil that confronts you. “So now no more running. It’s time to fight.” So they fought. Whether it was one demon or a crowd of them. Wherever they uncovered demons, they went after and vanquished them. Obadiah learned quickly with each clash and became a staunch ally and friend. It was as if he’d always been with them. They continued to search for others like themselves. After October, the weather never got any better. Across the country it was nothing but snow, ice, and record-freezing temperatures. Humanity hid inside behind ice-covered windows and solid walls—but not the demons. They didn’t

Page 428 mind the cold. They only wanted to keep killing. Slowly, the three who wielded the swords learned how to fight, when not to, protect each other’s backs, and when to run. There were times they were victorious and none of them got hurt. There were times they dragged back to the RV dripping blood and covered with wounds. Each time, they became stronger. More expert at seeking out and destroying their enemy. Between fighting and spreading the word, when things weren’t too hectic, Cassandra and Johnny found places to perform a night or two at a time. It wasn’t simply for the cash, which they needed, that they went on working, but it gave them something to look forward to and relieved their stress. Their friends would sit in the audience, applaud, and smile, and for a short time everyone would forget there were demons to battle and a world outside going to hell. The good times never lasted long. One snowy night, they packed up to leave a tavern they’d done a three-nighter at and she confided to her brother, “This is getting harder and harder for me. You know I love playing guitar and singing your songs, but I can’t stomach looking out in the crowd anymore and seeing so many people with targets on their faces. More demon victims.” “At least our audience is all human, Sis.” The demons had stopped mingling with humans. Now, when the two species met, there was only killing. “That’s true, yet it still depresses me. I think our performing days are over, Johnny. Time left is too precious to waste singing out in bars. There’s only time for finding and slaying demons, saving the people we can save and looking for others like us. Preparing for what’s to come.” “You sure?” “I’m sure. All the signs are there. Sarah had a dream and I have this feeling.” He didn’t argue with her about it. Silent tears ran down her cheeks as she closed her guitar case. They walked out of

Page 429 the bar into the frigid night. It was hard letting go of that last vestige of their old life, the part that had made them happy. Manasseh hadn’t asked her to do it. She’d just known it was time. Johnny wasn’t usually the optimistic one, but he put on a valiant face. “This doesn’t mean the music has to die. We can still play whenever we want for our family and friends. We’ll save it for gatherings. Celebrations. Or just when we’re blue and need to be cheered up.” “You can count on it. We’ll still sing and play whenever we want. And someday—” She didn’t finish her thought because she knew, as well as her brother, there probably wouldn’t be a someday for them. It was the beginning of December and demons were everywhere. Locating, eradicating, or evading the large gatherings took all their time. Traveling and preaching took up what was left. Their money ran out. Just in time, her uncle’s insurance check for the house came through. He had it sent to his bank’s local branch in the town they were in at the time. Of course it was supposed to be for rebuilding, but their need was more pressing. They cashed it and hid the money in the bus. Better if they had it on them. They were going to need it. Demon hunting paid nothing. Obadiah turned out to be a strong fighter and a crack shot with the guns. He became expert at card games, but didn’t have much of a singing voice. He left that to her and Johnny. Mutt gradually became Uncle George’s dog more than Obadiah’s. It slept with him, tailed him everywhere, and, though he rarely barked in general, barked when demons were around—an authentic watchdog for the end days. After his first battle, Obadiah humbly petitioned her uncle to teach him more about Revelations and Uncle George gladly obliged. Aurora telephoned one freezing snowy morning. “My mother’s dying in the hospital. That’s unbearable enough, but

Page 430 there’re monsters tormenting the town we’re living in and their murderous raids have intensified. They’re kidnapping people openly now. It’s happening everywhere every day. They don’t wait until dark. They don’t care if they’re caught. It’s been difficult trying to protect people when Mom’s so sick,” she divulged in a weary voice. “But my day job’s gone so that’s made it easier in some ways, harder in others. I’m broke, but they’ve closed the stores anyway and the schools. People are holed up in their homes, afraid to go out. “Once Mom passes, there’s no good reason for Ruth and I to stay. So we could be joining you very soon. You still want us? You still have room for us?” “We’ll make room,” she promised Aurora over the cell phone. “Call us when you’re ready. We’ll come and fetch both of you.” “I’ll do that,” she said in her sad voice. “See you all before long.” After the phone conversation, her uncle had an idea. “We should trade this bus in for a bigger one. I have the money and can’t think of a better way to spend it. We’re going to need more space, more beds.” They found another RV, one that was roomier and slept eight people if they crammed them in. It could have been the old one’s twin, just a little bigger. With the trade-in they still had money left over to live on for months. They took possession of their new home not a day too soon. The news media unrelentingly made excuses for the everworsening global disasters, uprisings, vanishings, and brutal deaths. The crime rate continued to escalate and so too did the number of devastated towns. Bizarre phenomena befell people and were seen by witnesses. There were roaming gangs of thugs that some people said weren’t human beings at all, but some sort of monsters. The stories were as endless as the denials. Humanity. People sure could be dense. What they couldn’t explain away, they covered up.

Page 431 Yet, little by little the believers were organizing. The demons prowled and killed openly. Weeks went by. George had gotten good at preaching to people. Wherever they stopped in a new town or city he’d get out, walk among them, and preach. Some even listened as the times grew more precarious. Cassandra was constantly dismayed at how many people didn’t believe in God. They were chased away from so many places. Unbelievers took them for a busload of wandering religious fanatics spreading fear and lies. Some threw eggs or rocks at them. Her uncle particularly relished testifying in parking lots, lobbies of corporate businesses or in the malls. Anywhere he could find a large gathering. The men and women in their expensive suits zigzagged around them as if they had the plague. The spoiled mall teenagers dressed in skimpy clothes and bedecked with piercings and jewels snickered at them. There weren’t many spontaneous converts. Sometimes to help gather people, she and Johnny played their music. It got them attention; sometimes not the kind they wanted. Demons heard their voices and flocked to them. Cassandra lost count of how many of those meetings ended in bloodshed. One night, up guarding the others and keeping each other company after a long day of fighting demons, she bemoaned that so many people still couldn’t see what was happening and her uncle predicted, “That’ll change when everyone sees the demons and the world plunges into full-out war. “We’re only killing time waiting for that day.” “Some killing time…I thought we were killing demons.” “That, too.” He grabbed and hugged her as she sat beside him. “Don’t wish your days away, sweetheart. Armageddon will come soon enough. Enjoy these days because what’s coming will be hell.” So she tried. Hard. And more weeks passed.

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Chapter Twenty-Eight Ellie’s Ghost The night she saw Ellie’s ghost was the night she learned Brynmor was coming for them with an army far greater than the one he’d had before. He was very very close. It was the end of December. They’d joyously celebrated Christmas with a home-cooked turkey dinner and practical presents, socks, gloves, and warmer wool hats, under a tiny evergreen, decorated in popcorn strands Obadiah had cut from the woods. They’d all sang Christmas carols late into the night with her and Johnny accompanying on guitars. It was a bittersweet holiday. They’d been tortured by inclement weather as they journeyed through Mississippi, Alabama, and down into Florida, obeying Manasseh’s cryptic directives. They camped by the ocean in a place called Marco on the Gulf of Mexico having gone as far south as they could go. Cassandra wasn’t sure what to do next. The cryptic directives had ceased. That night she sat up late alone at the kitchen table and waited for guidance. The world had overnight plummeted into desperate confusion. Worse than ever before. No one could view the news any longer and say something strange wasn’t going on. Not that people believed what was right in front of their eyes. It was bizarre to watch news anchors reporting macabre happenings, but never acknowledging what they were. She laughed, but it wasn’t funny. Obadiah would watch the evening news; shake his head. “Don’t they see what’s going on?”

Page 433 “They see,” she’d sigh. “They’re just too afraid to say they see.” She got to where she couldn’t watch television news anymore. The charities couldn’t keep up with the money that was needed to assist the injured, homeless, and the destitute in the world. That winter, except for working and necessary trips, people never left their houses. There’d been a deep freeze across the United States since before Halloween. If it wasn’t snowing, it was sleeting or so cold being outside for long was dangerous without proper clothing. Even Florida experienced the lowest temperatures ever recorded. The rest of the world wasn’t much better. It was chilly in the Amazon. Snowing in the Sahara. Icy in Egypt. By January, the ranks of the missing swelled to outrageous proportions and as Uncle George had said many months before, everyone noticed. Another reason for people to isolate themselves. She was worn-out from a scuffle that morning at a K-Mart with a couple of particularly nasty demons. She and Obadiah had been shopping and came across them on the parking lot. They’d been blowing up cars. Obadiah waylaid one with drawn sword, dispatched it, as Cassandra had dealt with the other one. Problem was then the beasts’ companions showed up. A flood of them. She and Obadiah had barely escaped with their limbs intact, but he’d suffered a couple of deep wounds and was sleeping, healing, in the bedroom. So far she’d been lucky. Wounded often, she’d always healed. Usually, she was covered in bruises, scrapes, and cuts. That was her life. She prayed, waiting for a sign to tell her what to do next. She hadn’t heard from Manasseh in days, so she and the others had done their best on autopilot. Something big was about to go down. A quaking in her bones. She could feel it.

Page 434 Her eyes looked around the new RV they called home. It was nice having more room and privacy. The kitchen area was smaller, but no one had to sleep on the floor anymore. Obadiah bunked with Johnny; Sarah and Walter together and her uncle in one of the smaller separate bunks. She’d sleep on the double bed that the sofa made into, closest to the door so she could get out quickly if she had to, until Aurora and Ruth joined them. After that, they’d have to rearrange sleeping quarters. She liked looking out the window above her bed at night, keeping guard over the others as they slept. “God, where do we go now?” Outside, she could hear the ocean whispering. Walter had parked for the night behind a small church, and its cemetery, not far from the water’s edge. The ocean was outside their door. It’d been warmer the day they’d arrived than it’d been in weeks. The snow had lulled. Enough so that all of them, Uncle George included, explored the beach along the water line. They’d tumbled out of the motorbus, stretched their legs, and filled their lungs with fresh sea air. Carefree for once, they’d enjoyed a day at the beach laughing, cavorting like young children; forgetting the calamitous state of the planet for awhile. Obadiah loved the ocean. The last one to come back inside the day before, he’d dawdled along the beach, sticking near to the RV in case demons showed up, until it’d grown dark, chilly, and the snowflakes had resumed. It was snowing in Florida. Imagine that. They had grown fond of Obadiah. He was funny, clever, and becoming a splendid fighter. She’d been right that first day, he was a good man. Being with them, believing in what they were doing, had revitalized him. His eyes were no longer haunted with melancholy. He’d shaved his beard, let Sarah trim his hair, and he’d bought new clothes, which made him look younger. She’d learned he was only thirty-eight one night over a Rummy hand she was, for once, winning. Obadiah had the most luck at cards she’d ever seen. He always won. What endeared him to her the most as time went by, besides

Page 435 his prowess in battle at her side and the way he devoured books, was that he loved to listen to her and Johnny play and sing. When they’d been entertaining in the taverns, he’d come to listen to them every night. He particularly appreciated Johnny’s original music. Johnny thought he was sweet on her. She might have felt something for Obadiah, older or not, but fondness was only what the times and her heart would allow her. Survival took up her days and her stamina. This was no time to get involved with anyone, and above all not another one of God’s warriors. Their life spans could be short. After Rapture, how long would any of them have…years, weeks, or days? That reality was never far from her mind. Even now, Walter was recuperating from a to-the-bone gash and todayObadiah had almost died. Seeing him in pain had hurt her much more than she could have thought. No, she had to shield her heart. This was no time for a soldier on the battlefield to fall in love. She dipped her head and massaged her neck. Her whole body was sore tonight. “What are we supposed to do now?” she whispered to the quiet space around her. And there was Aunt Ellie sitting across from her. The woman looked young, the way she remembered her when Cassandra had first come to live with her over twenty years ago. She was happy. Healed. She looked so pretty in a pearl pink dress and a rose in her shiny hair. She sparkled softly. “No,” Ellie assured her, “I’m no demon pretending to be your aunt. I’m me all right.” The spirit brushed her hand and Cassandra was sure. They smiled at each other. “I was only wondering,” Cassandra explained, “because Manasseh once told me there were no ghosts…only demons in disguise.” “That’s true. But I’m no ghost. I’m a visitation from God. It’s different.” “Oh. God can do anything right?” “Right.”

Page 436 “Aunt Ellie, I’ve missed you so…I’d begun to think you were a figment of your husband’s imagination. But here you are.” “Here I am.” “Because?” Cassandra couldn’t stop smiling. Seeing her aunt after the long months without her gave her the most joy she’d had in a long time. “God sent me to give you a message. Oh, and don’t miss me, sweetie. I’m not really gone.” Ellie pursed her lips, gazing around. “I like your new digs. Shame about our old home, but this RV thing is comfy looking. And it goes everywhere you go. That’s got to be right handy.” Her eyes gravitated towards the bunk further down where George was sleeping. Mutt was curled up next to him, but his eyes were open and fixed on Ellie. The dog could see her, but it didn’t bark. It laid its head on its paws and just watched. “Do you want me to get Uncle George up for you?” “Nah, I’ll see him soon enough. I’m to tell you that you have to leave this place. Tonight. A terrible hurricane’s gonna hit this part of Florida in a day or so. You and the others have to be far, far away. Do you hear me?” “It’s no longer hurricane season, Aunt Ellie, and I haven’t heard anything on the news about one coming.” There’d been so many hurricanes in the last year they’d become commonplace. “What’s so different about this one?” “Other than you’re here on the beach where it’s going to hit?” Ellie grinned. Cassandra waited, an expectant expression on her face. “Zelda is what they’re going to call it. It’ll show up off the coast out of nowhere. Worse one ever, you’ll see. So get going. You’ll need to stock up on groceries and supplies on the way, though, as much as you can stuff into this metal box. You’re going to need them. “And those demons led by that awful Brynmor, the ones you’ve been warned about, have found you again, and are preparing to bushwhack you. If you don’t move your butt

Page 437 now, they’ll catch up with you in a few hours.” Ellie’s face was serious as she went on, “The enemy’s army has grown so strong and they will grow even more so after the Rapture. When the portals to hell are going to open all over the world and evil’s going to pour out.” Her words filled Cassandra with dread, though she hid it. “If you go tonight, you’ll leave the demon pack behind,” Ellie finished. “For a bit.” “I thought we were supposed to stand and fight and not run anymore?” “After you meet up with Aurora. She’s sort of a link that forges the final chain…and something else is going to happen that’ll make you all incredibly stronger. You’ll see. So you need to head back up to Missouri, a town called Malden, where she and her daughter have been living. They’ll be joining you. You can fight Brynmor. You’ll be ready then.” “You’ll be ready then? What do you mean?” “Oh, you’ll understand.” Ellie hunched over to whisper, “Cassie, the Rapture will come very soon. You need to be with Aurora when it comes. That’s very important.” Cassandra heart jumped. “When?” “Oh, I can’t tell you that. I don’t know.” “Only God knows?” “Yep.” “And afterwards all humans will see the demons?” “That’s the plan. That’s when the real fun will start.” Ellie winked. Perhaps seeing the terror in her face, her aunt extended a hand and caressed her cheek where the scars were. “Fear not, my child, God and His angels will be with you every step of the way. Your friends. You won’t be alone.” Cassandra shuddered. Ellie got up, came around, and put her arms around her. The woman was as solid as she’d been in life and smelled of lilacs and springtime. “There, there. It’ll be okay. You and the others are tough. You can do what God asks of you. I know it. Trust in Him. He’ll watch over you.” Her aunt’s embrace was warm, as when she’d been alive.

Page 438 How powerful God was, Cassandra thought. He could raise the dead and give them life again. He’d sent Ellie to comfort her. She let the tears flow. It felt good to have someone hold her. Console her. It was magical having Ellie there like that. She didn’t want to let go of her. Ever. “Aunt Ellie, what’s being dead like?” Ellie’s laugh was soft and musical. It brought back sweeter days when her aunt had been a vibrant life-loving woman who could do about anything she’d set her mind to; before she’d gotten sick. Ellie had been a good friend and surrogate mother. “Heaven’s beautiful. I’m so happy I can’t put it into words. I’ll tell you, it’s not like anything you think it is. Time means nothing there. Everyone I ever loved—except you, George, and Johnny—are there. My family. My son. Oh, he’s a sweetheart. I see him every day. I feel no fear, worry, or pain. I’m not sick anymore. I know that soon God and you will win His war and we’ll all be together again. Blissfully happy. You’ll see.” As her aunt moved away, Cassandra wiped tears from her face. “When will we fight Brynmor?” “Soon.” “When?” Ellie’s laughter was so faint Cassandra wasn’t sure she’d heard it. The woman who had been Ellie had walked, floated, to the door and it magically opened. The spirit admired the night and the gently murmuring ocean. The light covering of snow made the line between water and land visible. The earth was lit up as if by a million tiny twinkling lights. The sea was calm. “I always wanted to go see an ocean. Never got a chance when I was alive. It’s beautiful. But not as beautiful as the ocean outside my new home up there.” She gestured at the sky. The spirit turned to look at her. “Now I live in a lovely house next to one. The water’s always blue and warm. I have animals. A dog named Ralphie and three fat cats.” She

Page 439 waved three fingers in front of Cassandra’s eyes. “A huge swimming pool. Lush gardens. Friends. Old and new. My son lives with me. We play cards. Go on trips. Hike in the woods. I go swimming every day. Eat anything I want. Ooh, the chocolate’s heavenly up there. I’m so happy. “Oh, just wait, Cassie, until you see it.” “I can’t wait, Aunt Ellie. Now…when do we fight Brynmor?” “W hen the sky is crimson and the angels’ swords glow a rainbow. It will be a decisive battle. The beginning of the end.” Cassandra wanted to ask what that meant because they’d been fighting battles for months now, what made this one different? But Ellie wanted to talk about other things. For a while, they did. She wanted to hear about George, Aurora, Obadiah and the wedding. Cassandra had answered everything Ellie wanted to know and was in the middle of the story about meeting Obadiah when Ellie put her hand up. “I have to go now, child, and so do you. You must wake everyone and leave within the hour.” “We will. Thank you for coming Aunt Ellie. It’s been so good to see you again.” “Ah, I’ll be back before you know it. I haven’t abandoned any of you. I’m watching over you, I have since my death. Never forget: I love you. All of you. Tell George I love him, though he knows that. Johnny, too. And Obadiah…I like him. You can trust him. He reminds me of your Ronnie. Who, by the way I’ve seen and he told me to say he still loves you.” Stunned, Cassandra could only blink. “You’ve seen Ronnie?” “I have. Don’t worry. He’s so contented. He paints the most wonderful oil canvases of the heavenly landscapes and gardens. He did one of my cats last week. Stunning. He has the touch. He watches you down here. He’s proud of you. Says hi.” Cassandra wiped the tears from her cheeks. She couldn’t bear to think about Ronnie at that moment. The life she was living was too horrible. “You all watch us down here?”

Page 440 “Sometimes. It made me so happy when Walter and Sarah got married.” Ellie stopped, acted as if she were going to say something else, but changed her mind and grasped Cassandra’s hands instead. The other woman’s flesh was warm. “Good-bye, Cassie. God speed. Now go on get out of here. That hurricane’s coming. So are those demons.” “Good-bye, Aunt Ellie.” The spirit evaporated into the air, waving good-bye as she went. If only she could have visited longer. It’d been lovely, having her to talk to again. Expelling a groan, knowing what she had to do, she got up to wake the others. They weren’t going to like rushing off in the middle of the night much. But it was time to hit the road. Good-bye, ocean. Goodbye, Florida. Good-bye, hurricane—wherever it was. **** Alarmed that Brynmor and a tempest were closing in on them, Cassandra didn’t have to cajole much to get everyone out of bed, dressed, and on the road. They knew eventually they’d have to fight Brynmor, but preferred not to in the middle of a hurricane. So they battened down the hatches. Walter, their best driver, got behind the wheel and drove. Everyone wanted to hear what Ellie had had to say and as Cassandra recapped it they kept their eyes on the world outside the windows for the enemy. They watched the news. It was all about the new hurricane. By the time they reached Arkansas, people as far up as Missouri and Kentucky were fleeing north to outrun the coming storm that had materialized out of thin air in the Gulf of Mexico. “Cassie, you should look at this.” Johnny’s attention was on the twelve-inch television screen. “They’re saying Zelda will be the most devastating hurricane Florida or the United States has ever seen since they began reporting them. Three times as bad as Katrina was. Winds unbelievably over four

Page 441 hundred miles an hour. Whoa. “They’ve made a new category for it. Category seven. It’s coming ashore now along the coast, flooding Florida like it was a swimming pool. In the next day or so, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama up to Missouri and Kentucky could see flooding as well. They predict millions will die or become homeless in the storm surge and high winds.. “They can’t figure out what’s fueling it, though. Hurricanes are fed with warm water and the water’s freezing. It’s still snowing most of the way down to Florida. So if the flooding doesn’t get you, the icy water will. This is awful.” He put his head in his hands hiding his eyes, gently swaying back and forth. “So awful.” “Darn good thing we’re in Arkansas,” Uncle George huffed. “We got out of Florida just in the nick of time.” “We sure did.” Walter said as he squinted to see through the heavy snow. “Thank you, Ellie.” He’d been driving straight through the night. They were six hours away from Malden. They’d called Aurora and she was expecting them. It was cold, too, in Arkansas, icy and slick. Which didn’t help the driving. They hit a bump. Walter struggled with the wheel to keep the bus on the road. Something beneath the vehicle scraped the undercarriage. “Too much weight. Too many provisions packed in every nook and cranny.” They’d purchased clothes, groceries, and canned goods, cleaning products and personal hygiene items on the way. Everything they’d need if there were no stores open any longer. They’d depleted all their cash. Cassandra said, “I know. Sorry. We’re going to need every last thing we jammed in. Would have bought more if we had more money. The country’s going bonkers. I’m glad we got what we got. Shortages are going to do nothing but increase.” The stores they’d stopped at had been nearly cleaned out. They’d had to go to three places before they’d gotten what they’d needed. With the storms and the frozen roads, stores

Page 442 weren’t being stocked properly to begin with and with the shortages it had become only worse. Cassandra noticed Johnny staring out the window at the passing whiteness, a sullen look on his face. He had his guitar in his hand and had been trying to play, strumming it softly, some song he’d been writing for Aurora, but the rocking bus kept him from finishing. Now he just cradled the instrument in his arms. “What do we do when our supplies are gone and the stores are empty?” “Learn to forage or live off the land, I guess,” Obadiah was the one to answer him. “I spent time in the army when I was young and I’ll teach you all how to trap and hunt. We’ll get by. Well, for as long as we’ll need to.” Everyone knew what he meant by that remark. They hit another bump and a cabinet door above the table sprung open. A stream of cans popped out and rained down on the tabletop. Smashed a coffee cup that had already been saved twice from committing suicide by launching itself off the table. “Yeah, we could have bought more stuff and put it where?” Sarah groused good-naturedly and collected canned peas and beans to stuff back in the cabinet. She cleaned up the broken cup. “There’s space in the bathroom…in the toilet bowl.” Cassandra couldn’t take her eyes off the devastation Zelda was creating on the television as it forged closer to land. She was frightened, no matter what Ellie had said about trusting in God. There was a strange feeling in the air and strange sounds, like a million whispers ebbing and flowing around them. It made her skin clammy. Something was about to happen—but what? Her eyes met Sarah’s. No words were needed. Everyone had stayed up through the night as Walter or Johnny or Obadiah, taking turns, had driven, talking about what would happen next and what to expect when they had to face Brynmor.

Page 443 Some of them, perhaps all of them, would die. Cassandra studied the faces around her. She loved every one and couldn’t imagine any of them not being there. She wanted to stop, find a church, kneel, and pray so badly, but they were on a timetable and couldn’t stop the big bus, as Sarah had started calling their new home. “Time for praying afterwards,” Walter promised. “When we get to where Aurora is we’ll go to church if we can. Light candles; pray for the human race and for the courage to face what’s coming.” They huddled close to each other in their metal home and silently counted the passing hours as Walter drove on through the second snowy night. They took turns sleeping because they had to be rested for whatever followed. She thought she was forgetting to do something vital, but couldn’t for the life of her remember what it could be. They were tired of watching the anticipated horrific damages the hurricane would soon inflict and were discussing the Rapture again. One of her Uncle George’s favorite subjects. “It’ll be an awe-inspiring miracle,” he gushed to Sarah. “We know it’s close. It’s going to prove God’s existence once and for all to so many unbelievers.” “Some will see God in it,” Walter said. “Some won’t. There’ll still be people we’ll have to bring to our side. There’ll be some we’ll never convince. As I see it, I’m being realistic.” “You really believe the Rapture won’t convince people that the end days are here?” Cassandra had her eyes on Johnny’s fingers as they returned to the guitar’s strings. His new song was haunting and she wanted him to play more of it. “Not all of them. People who don’t believe in it, won’t accept it’s happened. With all the truly good people around the planet gone…overnight, the world will become a treacherous place. Too many demons and not enough Godly people. It’ll be like purgatory on earth.” “Promise me,” Sarah spoke aside in a whisper to Obadiah, “to keep an eye on my husband if something happens to me?

Page 444 It’d be hard on him, especially in the beginning.” “I will.” There wasn’t anything else Obadiah could have said. They’d talked about how God’s warriors’ destiny was to be left behind to continue the fight. But Sarah, George, and Johnny weren’t warriors. They could die any time. Something none of them liked to speak of. “I keep thinking that if I wasn’t one of these soldiers or if I’d been more religious, I could be seeing my wife, Martha, here shortly. She was a true believer, like my mother was. Martha had the most beautiful white leather Bible trimmed in gold. I buried it with her.” There was a yearning in the man’s eyes. In his hand, was Ellie’s Bible. Obadiah had been reading passages from it the last two days. Some aloud so everyone could hear. “You miss your wife, don’t you?” Cassandra asked. “More every day, Cassie. But I’m glad she’s out of this. Glad she doesn’t have to go through what’s ahead. She’s in heaven. I miss her companionship. A selfish thing actually. She was one of those people who looked at the bright side of everything. She could make me smile through my tears and make me see how trivial my fears were. I could use that now.” Cassandra feared he might see his wife soon anyway. Brynmor had an endless army behind him this time. “You’ll see her again, Obadiah. One way or another.” She laid a hand on his shoulder then as quickly moved it away. She was mad at herself. It was like her body wouldn’t listen to her. She kept touching him. A touch here, a hug there. A shoulder tap. She couldn’t stop herself. “Oh, I know I will.” His eyes were laughing up at her. Like he knew what she’d been thinking. He patted the seat beside him. “Sit down by me. Tell me what’s on your mind.” She sat at his side. Distract him, she thought, by talking about her lost love as well. “I miss Ronnie even after all this time, too. I turn around and expect him to be there. I talk to him sometimes as if he were here. I miss him, but it does get better. It does.”

Page 445 Obadiah avoided her eyes, but his hand took hers. It was large and warm and, a sensitive man, she knew he’d heard her. Understood her heartache. Sarah went up front to sit by Walter. Everyone was conscious of how short time might be for them and they were making the most of it. At nine-thirty that night, they arrived in Malden and drove to Aurora’s rented house. It was an old place, plain, the inside in need of paint, but yet spacious with a fireplace in the living room which was cozy with the snow falling outside and the temperature below ten degrees. The reunion was joyful. Cassandra introduced Obadiah to Aurora and they all sat down to a pot of her homemade chili. Worn down from fending off demons on her own, living with little money, and her mother in the final stages of her illness in the hospital where she and her daughter spent half their time, Aurora was so happy to have them there. Obadiah liked Aurora immediately. He knew the circumstances of Mary’s death and treated both her and her daughter, Ruth, with kindness and love as the evening progressed. He played Monopoly with them and Uncle George. Card games. Ruth laughed and seemed content. A far cry from the child they’d last seen. Cassandra and Johnny, and sometimes Aurora, sang old Beatle songs before the fire, and for few hours they were merely a group of friends taking pleasure in each other’s company. It grew late. “We’d better get some sleep,” Walter recommended. “We’re going to need it.” Wanting to keep them all together, Aurora offered her house for the night. “I have cots, a sofa bed and, with Mom in the hospital, an extra bedroom. Ruth and I can double up in mine. Both animals are welcome, too.” They made their beds wherever they could and settled in for the night with the snow and wind blowing outside. Snowball ended up sleeping with Ruth, who the cat had taken

Page 446 an instant fondness to, and Mutt, as usual, with George. Cassandra took the living room sofa. She could feel the evil approaching. Somewhere beyond the windows the demons lurked. It made her skin itch something terrible, her stomach queasy; her sleep restless. Around three in the morning she woke for the second time since she’d laid down to the sound of Mutt barking, startled to see someone hovering over her in the darkness. “Cassie,” someone whispered hoarsely. “Wake up, it’s important!” She switched on the light on the nearby end table, her eyes adjusted and took in the repulsive visage of a demon. She couldn’t believe it. “Rayner!” It’d been weeks since she’d seen him in Applebee’s and here he was…a demon in Aurora’s living room. He could have done anything to her. Killed all of them in their beds. He’d snuck in and not one of them had even sensed it and that upset her as much as him being there. These days she always knew when demons were around. “What are you doing here and what do you want?” She’d instinctually grabbed her sword tucked beneath the sofa and bolted into a sitting position. The blade was inches from his neck. “Well, I’m not here to harm you or any of your pals, if that’s what you’re thinking, silly girl. I came to warn you. Again,” Rayner went on, stepping back to put his hands up in a capitulating gesture. His voice dropped to a gruff whisper, “I’m sure you do know about Brynmor’s massive army, don’t you? That he’s sworn to kill you and your gang?” “Of course I know.” “Well, he’s found you. They’ll surround the house in minutes. Strike before dawn. You can’t win, there are too many of them. You must run away!” Before dawn. So that’s what she’d been sensing. So many demons so near. “We can’t run away any more, Rayner. God wants us to fight him this time.”

Page 447 “Then you and your God are fools. Brynmor is among the oldest, mightiest of us and he has called forth others from hell as ancient or more so than he is. You cannot conquer him.” “Why haven’t I taken your head?” she scolded herself as she dropped the sword away from his demon neck. “Because I’m no threat to you and you know it. I’m your… friend.” If a demon could look friendly, as ugly as it was, Rayner tried. He contritely hung his head and wrung his claw-like hands. “I only want to help you.” Cassandra grunted. “I can’t seem to get rid of you, can I? I thought you were with your comrades or were dead.” “No, I’m not dead. As you can see. Yet. I told you I don’t fight with the others of my race. I don’t believe in what they believe in. I no longer want to eradicate all the humans and send their souls to hell. Truth is, these days, I prefer human company to demon. “This brand new world they’re planning? Ha! A world for and run by demons with some king demon reigning over us and torturing humans for his delight doesn’t appeal to me. I’m no one’s puppet. I didn’t always much care for the world the way it was before, but this new one would be a catastrophe.” He shook himself like a wet dog, his version of a shudder. Mutt had stopped barking but she caught the dog out of the corner of her eye hiding in the shadows beyond the living room door, growling softly; staring at Rayner with big shiny dog eyes. “On that we agree.” She listened to hear if anyone else was up in the house. Someone was moving somewhere. A shuffling was coming towards them. Obadiah was in the doorway, sword in hand, he saw Rayner and charged. Cassandra jumped out of bed and threw herself between them. “No, it’s Rayner! Remember I told you about him? The crazy demon that thinks he’s my protector? He came to warn us. Again.” Obadiah reluctantly lowered his weapon. There was still a

Page 448 look of horrified shock on his face. “Warn us about what?” In his blue jeans and T-shirt he visibly shivered seeing one of their enemies standing in front of him. He was used to killing one when he saw it, not standing and chatting with it. Cassandra related to Obadiah what Rayner had told her. Rayner was fidgeting towards the door, his ruby eyes never leaving Obadiah’s sword. “You don’t have any time to waste. You must all leave this house immediately. Brynmor’s plan is to firebomb and drive you from it so he can kill you. Get out now.” “You can’t trust him, he’s a demon,” Obadiah’s voice was a snarl. He raised his sword and moved forward as if preparing to smite the creature. “He’s probably a spy. We should kill him.” Rayner, taking the hint, vaporized. Where he’d been standing there was nothing but air. With one last growl, Mutt retreated to where he’d come from. The house was quiet again. “A coward demon,” Obadiah snapped disdainfully, relaxing; his sword lowering as he leaned back against the wall. “Not really. He was brave enough to come and warn us. An enigma, that’s what he is.” “I don’t trust him.” You and Walter both. “Well, as Uncle George says, he hasn’t done us any harm. In fact, he’s helped us. Five times now.” She collapsed on the sofa and Obadiah joined her. Rayner’s admonition was sinking in. They were being hit before dawn. The clock’s hands on the wall showed it was four A.M. They’d had five hours of sleep. “We can’t run. Ellie said we must fight Brynmor’s army. Rayner said he’ll attack at dawn. Two hours from now.” “Not much time to get ready,” he murmured, sitting close beside her. “We’ve fought the demons before and we’ll defeat

Page 449 these, too.” Her moan was softer than his voice. “There’s going to be a huge gathering of them this time. Biggest we’ve ever had to face. Bigger than that time I told you about before you were with us. It isn’t just that that has me worried. Ellie told Uncle George the demons are getting stronger every day as we get closer to the Rapture. That after it, their numbers will increase a thousand fold and they’ll be the most powerful that hell has to send. “Now Rayner tells me the ancient demons have come forth from hell to fight. They’re already here. It’s begun. The stakes keep going up. I’m frightened. Even if we defeat or get away from them this time how will we ever overpower them in the months or years ahead? There are only four of us.” “We will.” Obadiah put an arm around her shoulder. She was very aware of how near he was. How strong his body felt next to hers. How soft. Warm. He made her feel safe, if that was possible. “We’ll find more soldiers and God will give us the strength when we need it.” “Now you sound like Uncle George.” “I should since he’s the one who keeps telling me that. You going to be okay?” “I think so. They’ll be here soon. We need to get the others up. Put a guard outside.” A big day ahead…a battle with the largest demon force they’d ever faced and this time there would be no retreating and no way out. Either victory or death. Obadiah came to his feet. His hand lingered on her shoulder and then withdrew. For a moment, she thought he was going to lean down and kiss her, but he didn’t. “I’ll wake the others.” “I’ll help.” As she went in one direction and he in another, she thought that what she’d really like to do was go back to bed and not wake up for a few years. Or wake up and find the last seven months had been a horrible nightmare. Not real at all. Yeah, that’s what she wanted. She sure didn’t want to face

Page 450 the next twelve hours. She might not survive. Wasn’t sure any of them would. She was so scared her body was shaking as if it had a will of its own. She didn’t want to die. Not since she’d met Obadiah. Move, do, action. Don’t think, just do it. God will protect you, Cassie. Ellie had said the same thing Manasseh always did, wherever he was these days. She hadn’t heard from him in weeks. Cassandra prayed it was true. In twenty minutes, they were all dressed and sneaking out of the house. They left on some of the lights and the television, stuffed pillows under the covers to resemble sleeping people so it’d look as if they were there. Old trick, but she hoped it would work. Making sure no demons were skulking around directly outside, they snuck everyone to the motor home. Animals included. After Walter and Johnny doused the exterior with fresh holy water, which froze into an instant glaze, Walter moved the big bus away from the building. He parked it at the end of the yard, near enough so they could see the house from its windows. Cassandra wanted Johnny to drive Sarah, Ruth, and Uncle George away so they’d be safe. But Sarah refused to leave her husband. She wanted to fight and Johnny, another shock, wanted the same thing. Her uncle would have taken Ruth and hid somewhere, but there was nowhere to hide and no time left to do it in. No one was going anywhere. They would fight together, live or die together. So they readied their weapons, prayed, and waited for the assault. They hugged and kissed each other, cried and said their good-byes. It was all they could do.

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Chapter Twenty-Nine Cassandra and Rayner They didn’t have to wait long. Within fifteen minutes after they’d moved the bus, Mutt ran to the door and began to bark furiously. Snowball, meowing as if someone had stepped hard on its tail, ran under a bed. Walter, who’d been guarding the house, crept in and shouted, “They’re here! Surrounding us now…in the woods…huge, huge force. They’re coming this way. Get ready!” Cassandra, Aurora, Walter, and Obadiah had dressed warmly. Their swords were at their sides. Ruth, knowing what was about to happen, was petrified. She clung to her mother. She hadn’t forgotten the last time she’d been in the midst of demons. The child still mourned for her sister Mary, prayed for her, and the nightmares hadn’t stopped. She hadn’t forgotten. Outside, the snow came to an end. It was bitterly cold. The night still held down the light. Perhaps dawn would never come again. “We should leave Ruth here with someone.” Walter peeked out the window. Aurora’s rented house was in flames. The demons could be seen storming it. Crawling all over the structure in the fire’s light like hungry termites. Swarming in the windows and doors. “Better decide quick, too, because when those demons discover we aren’t in there, they’ll come hunting for us,” Obadiah said in a tense voice. “Don’t want them to find Ruth alone.” Cassandra gazed at the little girl, trying to decide what

Page 452 to do with her. Obadiah was being overly optimistic. If they didn’t drive away the demons, the child wouldn’t live, either. None of them would. They were ready to go. The crackling of the fire and the screeching of demons was an ungodly racket around them. Mutt was madly barking like she’d never heard him. Her uncle was calming the crying child when a brilliant light filled the interior of the RV. Manasseh had arrived in his true angel glory, as radiant as a miniature sun. He was Manasseh, but he wasn’t. His form and skin was whiter than the snow and his long hair flowed around strong shoulders. His wings brushed against the top of the bus and were wispy like lacey feathers. Around his chest was strapped a pure white scabbard with a magnificent blade inside. In his hands, he held three shining swords, which he gave to Johnny, Sarah, and her uncle. “Oh, my God, it’s really an angel!” Johnny stared at Manasseh, his eyes wide. “I see him! I see him!” “We all see him,” her uncle exclaimed. Cassandra stared, too, because she’d never seen anything so beautiful, so unearthly. In that moment, she knew she’d die for him. Knew she’d die for a God that had made such a one as him. Manasseh spoke in a rumbling voice that filled their heads and hearts: “This time you must all fight if you hope to win. Trust in God and His Son and the angels of heaven will be at your side. I will remain here and protect the child. I promise no harm will come to her. Now go.” We are all to fight? My brother, my friend, and my elderly uncle? Fear swept through her body. Oh, no. That couldn’t be, Cassandra thought. Oh, no. “How can we three fight when we can’t see the demons?” Johnny protested, lifting the heavy sword and slowly swinging it. His eyes returned to the being of light before him.

Page 453 Cassandra exchanged a look with Walter and he winked at her. Now she understood why he’d insisted on teaching everyone with an extra sword he’d bought used, including Johnny, Uncle George, and Sarah, how to use one. He’d been getting ready for this day for months. “You will see the demons when you need to,” the angel informed Johnny. “All of you will. And you will have the strength and skill to defeat them.” “Praise the Lord!” Uncle George cried as he took his weapon. He looked funny with a sword in his aged hands, it was almost as tall as he was, but he was prepared to use it. “I’ve been waiting for this. I finally get to see, fight, and kill those creatures from hell. I pray these old bones hold up, but I’ll give it all I have until my last breath.” Johnny, pulling his gaze away from Manasseh, was examining the sword with pale face and frightened eyes. “So will I. I’ll give it everything I have. I won’t let you down, Mr. Angel. Cassie. All of you. I swear. God help me.” He was utterly terrified, but she was proud of the way he came forward and accepted the responsibility without argument. He lifted his head and there was a strength in his eyes she’d never seen before. Sarah’s expression was stunned as her fingers stroked the sword’s hilt and she took it into her hands. “If God wants me to fight, then fight I will. Like Johnny, I’ll do the best I can. Just wish I was as expert a swordsperson as Cassandra, Walter, and Obadiah are.” Manasseh encouraged her, “When you pick up the sword to fight, you will be.” “Of course we will!” Her Uncle George admired his weapon, turning it this way and that as the light shone off it. “God can do anything, can’t He? He can even make us pitiful specimens into formidable soldiers.” Oh, please, let it be so. Manasseh smiled as he took Ruth’s hand in his. “True. God can do anything.”

Page 454 Mutt and Snowball curled at the angel’s feet. The dog was no longer barking and the cat was no longer afraid. “There are seven of us,” Johnny crowed. “Just like it was when we were children, remember Cassie? Seven brothers and sisters?” Alluding to how many children there’d been in their family before the first fire. He grinned at her. “Our lucky number.” “Now there are seven of us again,” Cassandra marveled. “We can’t lose.” The new recruits had a lot to learn and they’d be learning it on the job. A loud thumping banged on the outside of the bus. A window smashed. Then another. “Enough chatter,” she said. “It’s time to go. The enemy’s found us.” The seven adults exited the bus into the winter night. They weren’t three feet away from it when the demons closed in around them. Full dawn hadn’t come yet, but the snow lit up the landscape, enabling them to see the advancing demon troops. There was a touch of crimson on the horizon that burst across the lower sky and Cassandra remembered Ellie’s words: W hen the sky is crimson and the angels’ swords glow a rainbow it’d be time to fight. As the crimson in the sky grew and brought a pastel half light to the earth she saw there were hundreds—no thousands—of demons in different shapes and sizes surging at them through the deep snow. Some were loping on clawed hooves, some were riding ferocious beasts…and all were screaming and hissing. Their scary weapons were raised and there was blood in their ugly eyes. It was like a scene out of an apocalyptic horror movie, but far worse because it was real. “I can see the demons!” Johnny yelled as he rotated the sword in a practice warm up. He was shaking so badly the sword was too. “Ugh, Cassie, you were right…they’re ugly!” Uncle George shouted, “I can see them, too! Praise the

Page 455 Lord and give me courage. Here I go.” He plunged into the fray. A little old man with a glowing sword. “And me,” Sarah joined in her voice, keeping close to Uncle George to defend his back. Cassandra’s eyes took in Johnny, Sarah, and her uncle and felt a swelling pride. They weren’t soldiers, but they were prepared to fight and die for their Lord. She was so proud of them. “Here they come!” her brother screamed as the yelping, screeching angry mass of beasts rammed into them. The demons came like a flood and swept them away. Then she was too busy to think of anything else, but staying alive and slaying the demons jostling in around her. They raised their swords and fought in the light from the burning house, sticking close together so they could guard over each other. Stealing glimpses of the three new ones, Cassandra saw that they were doing their best. Their swords were shimmering and the electricity crackled around their blades, incinerating their enemies. It was as if they were in protective bubbles. The demons’ weapons weren’t touching them. She somehow knew that protection wouldn’t last for long. Uncle George was laughing as he cut down one fiend after another. She never would have believed the old man had so much energy in him. It was as if God had taken away his frailties so he could fight; as if God had given all of them superhuman strength for a while. Johnny yelled at the top of his lungs, “There...die…you repulsive sons of bitches!” as he stomped around poking demons with his sword. Sometimes he missed his target, but more frequently his blade found a home and another demon disintegrated into smoke. And Sarah. She fought alongside her husband, her eyes full of amazement and fear and her whole concentration on what she was doing, while not uttering a word or a cry. She threw her arm out, spun her blade around in the horde. The

Page 456 sword did the rest. Then suddenly, standing beside and behind all of them were angels. Cassandra could see them clearly. Translucent, tall, and shining, their swords sang and slaughtered the demons by the hundreds, and the light from the coming dawn shone like rainbows on their blades. So bright it lit up the dusk. It brought tears of joy to her eyes. Now she knew why the humans weren’t overrun. The angels were with them. A huge scarlet-skinned demon was coming towards her, surrounded by smaller ones who deferred to him. He brandished an enormous dark blade that blended with the pools of lingering night. It was twice the size of any of the humans’ swords; so powerful she could hear the wind it made with each stroke. It must be her nemesis Brynmor. She couldn’t let him get near the others. Johnny, his arms and legs cut and bleeding, was struggling to keep his footing. Sarah, now screaming, was pressed up against a tree fending off a cluster of ugly brown fiends with stinging tails and sharp teeth embedded in their hands. Her uncle’s face showed his exhaustion. When he thrust the sword his arms shook. Brynmor’s too strong for any of them to battle, Manasseh’s voice came into her head. He’s yours to vanquish. Then a great voice, one she’d never heard before, came and filled her with courage. I’m with you, my child. Do not fear. Lift your sword and go forward. She shoved herself between her friends and the red demon. Faced him as their swords clashed together. The blow rocked her bones and she went down to her knees. Get up! Up! She was up again before the next thrust and for what seemed like an eternity the two traded blows as the wind whipped around them, cutting as fiercely as a razor, and the sun rose.

Page 457 The demon had grown since last she’d seen him to a tenfoot-tall monster; so much larger than her and faster. When it moved, the ground quaked. When it glared at her with its glittering crimson eyes, she could only feel its malevolence. It had incredible powers. And it wanted her dead in the worst way. It almost succeeded. She stayed to its left side and remembered what Rayner had told her. “I know your name, demon! It’s Brynmor… Brynmor… Brynmor!” And for a few moments it fell back and her blows hit true. She brought blood and gained precious time to collect herself. Then the demon seemed to regain its strength and no matter how often she yelled out his name, there was no effect. Damn! Backed against a tree, she was fighting with the last bit of strength she had. There were angels around her, but she was the only one fighting Brynmor. She and the demon fought on, parrying and thrusting, and she lost track of her comrades. The melee, an endless sea of monsters, had swallowed them up and she prayed they were still alive. Brynmor lunged at her one final time. He sliced a deep cut into her side and she screamed in agony. She was covered in wounds, knew she’d lost a great deal of blood and was weakening. Her mind was shutting down. She was afraid. Is this my death? Brynmor’s blade caught her sword arm and ripped the flesh from her wrist to her elbow. Her weapon flew from her grasp into the sky and to the earth again, leaving her defenseless. I’m going to die now. It made her sad to leave the others, but she was ready to go into God’s arms and to be with Him forever. To see her dead brothers and sisters, her mother and father. Ellie. Ronnie. Everyone. She straightened up, blood gushing down her arm and side, and bravely faced her executioner. I’m ready. From out of nowhere, Rayner was at her side brandishing a

Page 458 wicked-looking axe with multiple gleaming blades. “Brynmor, spare her!” he shrieked, begging of the other demon. Brynmor’s laughter was a high-pitched and mocking string of screeches. The sound pierced her head like nails. “Can’t do that, Rayner. She and the others with her must die. You know that. They’re humans. What are you doing? Stand aside!” “I won’t let you kill her,” Rayner cried. “I’d rather kill you instead.” Hatred in his eyes, his tail twitching, he thrust his weapon at the larger demon. Brynmor, laughing, blocked the first blow and the second. “You stupid foolish demon.” Rayner gathered his strength. He stood taller. His black wings came up and spread about him and an aura of dim white light throbbed around his form. For the first time she realized: He’s not really as ugly as I thought he was. His bravery had transformed him. “Traitor,” the red demon howled, “she dies or you do.” “Or you.” Rayner jumped closer to his adversary and slapped his axe against the other demon’s head. The red one shrieked so loud the trees shook. “Run while you can.” Cassandra was staggered that Rayner was there in the middle of the battle, much less trying to save her. Could demons go insane? Obviously, they could, and Rayner had. To defy all his kind and to lay down his life for her…the enemy…a mortal…he had to be mad. “I’ll kill you first, traitor!” Brynmor sent his blade at Rayner a third time. The other demons and their hellish mounts had ceased fighting. They’d encircled the two demons and were watching with hungry eyes as they fought. Rayner was strong, but his foe was stronger. Within minutes, Rayner was a pile of ashes and Brynmor swung back to deal with her. But Rayner’s sacrifice, his death, had given her the time to save herself. She’d snatched her sword off the ground and

Page 459 stood ready to fight again. She couldn’t believe Rayner had given his existence for her. If not for him, she would already have been dead. And she was surprised when she’d felt sorrow at his passing. Imagine that. The fighting around her resumed with a massive roar of beasts. Brynmor charged at her again. She’d faced so many of them in the last months, but Brynmor was the strongest she’d ever fought with. They traded more blows and she schemed how she was going to beat him. As much as her injured right arm hurt, she grabbed the sword with both hands. Dodge after sidestep she defended herself, but knew she was losing ground. The crimson monster was wearing her down. The pain in her arms was excruciating. She was bathed in blood. She’d been cut off from her friends and didn’t know if they were dead or alive. Yet she wouldn’t give up and as she fought she prayed to God. Prayed hard. Screaming the words to the red sky. God help me. God please help me. Rayner’s sacrifice had made her accept she didn’t want to die yet. If they were still alive, she didn’t want to leave her family and friends. And if she were going to die she wanted God to know she was coming. Heaven must have heard her prayers because when she looked around there was a platoon of angels fighting beside her. Not normal angels like Manasseh. She suspected these were the strongest of the strong; the highest tiers of angels. Archangels or Dominions. Their faces stone and their arms steel. Their great shields glimmered like small suns. A current of blinding light blasted from their swords to hers in a thousand flashing rainbow colors and funneled straight at Brynmor, changing him into a screaming, hopping torch. In an eye blink, he was a pile of ash along with every demon in a sphere of a hundred feet. The demons on the perimeter screeched in rage, turned

Page 460 butt or tail, and ran as the sun burst above the horizon and covered the snowy landscape with radiance. The angels receded into the bright light. There was the most hauntingly beautiful music swirling around in the air as the angels sang of their triumph and of God’s and man’s victory. Cassandra crumpled into the bloodstained snow. When she looked up, there were Johnny and the others running to her side. All of them bloody, filthy, and exhausted, but alive. She was so relieved she wept like a child, so many feelings assailing her at once she couldn’t stop the tears. Obadiah bent down, drew her to her feet and into his arms. “We did it,” he cried. “We sent the devils running!” “For now,” she replied in a choked voice. “They’ll be back.” Her uncle hobbled up to her. “With the aid of God and His angels, we’re victorious. Whew, just in time. I’m pooped. I can’t lift another finger. I guess the magic’s gone.” He flopped down in the snow, bloody sword in his lap, and let out a shuddering moan. “I killed a bunch of the ugly critters—and I’m still alive.” He cradled and rocked his head as if he couldn’t believe it. In the sunlight, she could see their faces. They were laughing, embracing, even Ruth, who’d slipped from the bus and joined them out in the snow. Mutt was running around, yapping with joy. Snowball was nipping her ankles. Manasseh was nowhere to be seen, no doubt back up in heaven with the other angels. Apparently not liking a fuss made over them. Cassandra untangled herself from Obadiah’s embrace, dropped her weapon, and fell to her knees. “Let’s thank God and His angels for their help and for this great victory.” She felt a transformation in her. She wasn’t the same woman she’d been before the battle. She wasn’t sure of what way she’d changed, just that she had. There was singing in her ears and tears in her eyes and she smiled. The others smiled back with the same awed look. On their knees, they gave thanks in the snow among the

Page 461 ashy remnants of dead demons. The woods were empty. The enemy had deserted the battlefield. She and the others were so happy. And that’s when it happened. In the midst of their celebration, Johnny, Uncle George, Sarah, and Ruth’s bodies began to flicker and dissolve before her eyes. “It’s the Rapture. I’m going to be with Ellie. Thank you, God!” Her uncle only had time to say, his hands tented in prayer, his old eyes gleaming with joy. The first to go. “Say hello to Ellie for me, Uncle George,” she whispered to the vacant space where her uncle had been, but was no longer. Johnny, his face shining with astonishment, his body fading, threw up his hands. “How about that. I’m saved and going to heaven.” As if he understood what it really meant, he spun around to face her. “Oh, Cassie. I don’t want to leave you. We’ve never been separated and now we will be. I’m so sorry, but I got to go.” “Don’t be sorry, Johnny.” She was crying. “Go. You’ve earned it. I’m happy for you. I’ll see you soon.” She made a gentle shoving gesture towards him with her bloody hands. “Good-bye. I love you. Say hello to the rest of the family.” “I love you, too—” Johnny’s final words trailed off into nothingness. His eyes, woebegone and blissful all at once, held hers until he was gone. No more Johnny to talk to and laugh with and sing with. Write songs with. No more Johnny to drive her nuts and whine and badger her. To care for. No more Johnny to soothe her soul and watch her back. She mourned her loss even as she rejoiced. Johnny was in heaven. He was the fortunate one. Ruth’s hands slipped out of her mother’s. Sarah stepped forward to take the girl as Aurora looked on in disbelief. “God, please don’t take my baby. Ruth, don’t leave me!” The woman tried to grab at her child, but her fingers went

Page 462 through Ruth’s body. Ruth was reaching out to her, but she was smiling. All her fears were gone. Her laughter echoed on the sunlight. “I’ll take care of her for you,” Sarah promised Aurora as she held the girl close. “She won’t be alone. We’ll be with Mary.” Sarah’s face turned to Walter and she reached out to him with her free arm as her image wavered. “I love you, husband. Don’t ever forget it. I will always be with you. Always and forever. “Don’t grieve for us,” Sarah breathed to Cassandra. “We’ll be in heaven. We’ll wait for you. I love you and will see you soon. Good luck and keep the faith!” Walter stumbled towards his wife, but he was too late. His fingers barely touched hers, his lips barely kissed her lips before she and Ruth were gone, too. “I’ve lost one child and now I’ve lost the other one.” Aurora sobbed and fell into Walter’s arms, both of them in shock. “Oh, Sarah,” Walter gasped out loud, “how am I going to do this without you?” “You’ll see her again. We’ll all see them again,” Cassandra told him, trying to be braver than she felt. Her heart was breaking and soaring at the same time. I’ll see my brother, uncle, my family, and Ronnie again. Someday, when I make it to heaven. “Don’t cry for them, they’re safe with God and his angels now.” But oh, how she’d miss them! “I know that.” Walter wiped the wetness off his face with the back of his hand. He looked tired and old. The night had aged them. There was a ragged cut across his cheek that would leave a scar. It should have needed stitches, but it’d stopped bleeding and was beginning to heal, as were Aurora’s, Obadiah’s, and her wounds. “Don’t get me wrong,” he went on in a shaky voice. “I’m thrilled beyond words for them. They won’t have to run or fight anymore. Be afraid or suffer. I guess I’m not only crying over losing Sarah, but for myself. For us. The world. The ones

Page 463 left here. “Shedding our old lives, running from demons, the terror, and the bloody encounters were bad enough, but at least I had her. Now I don’t. I’m going to miss her so much.” He stopped and looked up. “Oh, what am I saying? I’m being selfish. She’s in heaven. I’ll see her soon.” He stopped talking and hung his head to pray. The wind gusted snow everywhere, but the sun shone and the world was beautiful, all dazzling white below with a lovely azure sky above. Even the wind had died down and it felt warmer. The calm in the middle of the storm, Cassandra thought. Enjoy it now while its here. After this things will really become bad. As if they hadn’t been bad enough before. “We need to get to a television,” she said softly, hoping to get their minds off the ones who’d left. “See what’s happening and how the world’s taking this mass exodus of the faithful.” “Mother!” Aurora moaned as if just remembering. She trudged through the snow towards the RV, dragging her sword, the others plodding along behind her. Cassandra scooped up Snowball to cuddle as she went. Mutt ran to his master and Obadiah bought him along, too. Inside, Aurora made a phone call and by the stricken look on her face Cassandra knew what she’d found out. She put the cat on the sofa. “Your mother’s gone, too, isn’t she?” “Along with half the hospital’s patients and staff. The whole place is in an uproar. I talked to the nurse that was with her when it happened…she saw her go. Said she had the most peaceful smile on her face.” Aurora pressed the end button on the cell phone. There were more tears. “I knew she was gone. I felt it.” Her eyes filled with grief. She took a deep breath. “But it’s all good. My mother was suffering. She was in great pain. Even the morphine wasn’t helping her anymore. Now she isn’t hurting and I know she’s in heaven. It’s better for her. “It’s only me who’s alone and crying.”

Page 464 “I’m sorry.” Cassandra put her arms around the other woman. “I know you loved your daughter and your mother. Remember this, they’re all out of harm’s way and…you have us. You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone.” “We have each other.” Walter was looking at the three of them sitting in the kitchen of their suddenly too big RV. Now there’d be room for others like themselves. “We’re our family now. Until we can be united with the ones we’ve lost.” They took each other’s hands and smiled sadly at each other. Obadiah got up to poke around in the cabinet above the sink until he located the first aid kit. He took out bandages and a tube of antiseptic cream. During the battle he’d been stabbed twice in the leg and his left arm had been badly bitten by one of the beasts the demons rode. Both horrid injuries yet Obadiah refused to go to the hospital, saying the wounds would heal on their own. Yet, as the rest of them, he was drained from the trauma, blood loss, the exertion. Their losses. The four of them helped each other clean their wounds and Cassandra laid her hands on the three and healed them. “Heaven knows when the next wave of demons will fall on us. We need to be whole and ready. God gave me this gift to use,” she told them. “I’m using it.” Walter said, “How about your wounds?” “Doesn’t matter,” she answered. “They’re healing on their own already.” And they were. Cassandra switched on the television. They watched how the world was reacting to the instant vanishing of millions of people all over the planet. Eyewitnesses spoke of seeing entire congregations melt away in front of them. Some witnesses pretended nothing had happened. Some, when they’d seen the miracle, had fled in terror. Some froze, speechless, and some prayed for mercy to whomever or whatever had taken all the people.

Page 465 For the vanishings, aliens were blamed or bands of killer gang members were blamed. Others claimed it was hallucinations brought on by a terrorist airborne pathogen. But no one could explain how so many people could disappear at the same moment around the globe and all of them good people who had believed in God. No one could explain except the ones who would come to believe the Rapture had truly come and gone; those who knew of God and His son, but who hadn’t yet accepted them wholeheartedly or those who were God’s warriors. They knew the truth. “God’s let everyone know He’s here. Now let’s see how many were paying attention.” Walter, his face drawn and his eyes feverish, was peering around as if he expected Sarah to come out of the bedroom or the bathroom any second. It was going to take him awhile to accept his loss. Ellie’s Bible was clutched in his hands. He was crying. She’d never seen Walter cry before. They would accept what had happened in time. They had no choice. It was God’s will. She’d miss Uncle George’s counsel and his cheerfulness. Most of all, she’d miss him. Like she’d miss her brother’s music, his fellowship and his jokes. She stared at Johnny’s guitar in the corner of the room and let the sadness come along with the jubilation. She’d see him again someday. Those who were left talked about what their lives might be like now and what the world would be like. They got through the next hours together as their healing—physically and emotionally—began. “And the world’s been given another miracle. Another sign. Hurricane Zelda, the worst hurricane in history, has disappeared,” Walter said after he’d seen a story about it on television. “Same exact time as all the people did. The storm hit land, but then was just gone. The waters have receded and Zelda’s winds, waves, and flooding are also gone as if they’d never been. Gone as all the faithful are gone.

Page 466 “And now everyone will see the demons. Wait until that gets on the nightly news.” Walter chuckled. “I’d like to see how they cover up that story when there are videos of them dancing across the television screen in all their ugly glory. It’s going be a real circus.” Cassandra laughed about the same time Obadiah and Aurora got the joke and laughed as well. They needed to laugh. “How long, you think, before the demons will come after us again?” Obadiah asked. He was drinking a cup of coffee and eating a sandwich. After hours of numbness, their hunger had gotten the best of them. They’d made a meal and sat down, the four of them, to eat. “Soon as they can reorganize.” She took a long drink from a glass of milk. “Not long. They won’t give up. And not only will everyone be able to see them now, but the demons will be stronger. Bigger. Fiercer. Harder to fight and defeat. Or so I’ve been told.” Snowball was curled in her arms. She stroked its soft fur. At least she still had her cat. Rapture hadn’t taken Snowball or Obadiah’s dog. God left them something to cuddle and love. Walter went to the window and looked out into the sunlight. “We should move. Find a church we can park behind. One of us will need to stand sentinel from now on, day and night.” “I agree.” Walter, the new Biblical authority, said, “The world’s going to be different now. Evil will grow in strength. Seven years. We’ll see the rise and fall of an Antichrist who’ll talk peace, but make war and there’ll be natural disasters and supernatural calamities that will make Zelda and what’s come before look like child’s play. “Wars. Plagues. Black miracles. Increasing persecution for us believers. The Antichrist will demand we all take his mark. We can’t take his brand. God makes that clear. So we’ll

Page 467 be hunted, persecuted, and killed like rabid animals. “Now only survival and spreading the word of God to sway possible believers will matter.” It was Aurora who had the nerve to ask, “How are we going to make it now in this terrible new world with such powerful evil everywhere? How are only the four of us going to make a difference?” Cassandra smiled at Aurora, Obadiah, and Walter one after the other. “We’ll find others like us and others, good, but up until now misguided people, who now believe. They’ll help. God and His angels will help us, too. “And,” she finished, “we’ll fight the demons. We’ll fight until we die or until we meet the messiah when he comes down to battle Satan and wins and begins the promised thousand years of peace.” Oh, she remembered what her aunt and uncle had taught her. Remembered it well. “We’ll fight,” Walter said flatly. “And never give up.” “Amen.” Aurora made the sign of the cross on her chest. She took Obadiah’s hand. He took Cassandra’s and Cassandra took Walter’s. They bowed their heads and prayed to God to give them the strength they were going to need. Walter got behind the wheel and keyed the engine on. “Right now, let’s find a church before it gets dark. I’d like to say prayers and light candles for Sarah and the others we said good-bye to today before I take first shift on guard duty.” Obadiah sat down beside Cassandra, Mutt at his feet, and gently put his arm around her. It felt good to have him there. “That sounds like a plan,” Cassandra approved, as she hugged her cat and covered its head with kisses as tears slid down her face. The cat purred and snuggled deeper into her lap. “I could stand to light a few candles myself and kneel in God’s church.” Confer with an angel maybe. She’d light candles for all of them…her long dead family and her friends. She’d light candles for the four of them left behind and the world that would now become a battlefield. She hoped there were enough candles.

Page 468 “Amen,” Aurora murmured a second time. “Let’s do it.” And they drove off into the terrible new world.

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About the Author Kathryn is a wife of 32 years (husband Russell), mother (1 son James) and grandmother (2 grandchildren, Caitlyn and Joshua). She was a graphic designer in the corporate world for 23 years and has been a writer for 39 years...and have published 13 books in the last 26 years with various print and e-publishers. She loves cats and nature, classic rock and country music (her brother is a singer/songwriter and does the songs for all her self-made book trailers that are on her myspace page). Feel free to eMail her as she loves feedback. Kathryn’s published books are: Evil Stalks the Night (supernatural horror), 1984; The Heart of the Rose (historical romance) 1985; Blood Forge (supernatural horror), 1989; Vampire Blood (romantic supernatural horror), 1991; The Last Vampire (supernatural horror), 1992; Witches (romantic horror), 1993 &

Page 470 2000; a novella called The Nameless One in Dark Seductions, an erotic horror anthology, 1993; The Calling (supernatural horror), 1994. The Nameless One, a short erotic novella in the 1994 Anthology Dark Seductions. And Scraps of Paper (hardcover mystery) 2003; All Things Slip Away, the second mystery in the series came out in 2006; Egyptian Heart, 2008 (ancient Egyptian time travel romance); Winter’s Journey, 2008 (a romantic suspense novel); The Ice Bridge, (a contemporary romance e-novel with a dose of murder mystery) and 2 ghostly short stories, Don’t Look Back, Agnes and In This House. **** Kathryn’s social networks… eMail: [email protected] http://www.myspace.com/kathrynmeyergriffith http://www.kathrynmeyergriffith.intuitwebsites.com http://www.bebo.com/kathrynmeyerG http://www.authorsden.com/kathrynmeyergriffith http://www.previewthebook.com/kathrynmeyergriffith http://www.jacketflap.com/K.Griffith http://www.shoutlife.com/kathrynmeyergriffith http://www.goodreads.com/profile/kathrynmeyergriffith h t t p ://r o m a n c e w r i t e r a n d r e a d e r. n i n g . c o m /p r o f i l e/ KathrynMeyerGriffith h t t p : //r o m a n c e b o o k j u n c t i o n . n i n g . c o m /p r o f i l e / kathrynmeyergriffith

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Available now from Damnation Books

Demon Legacy by Kelly Brigham A paranormal horror novel $5.95 337 pages eBook ISBN: 978-1-61572-046-0 Print ISBN: 978-1-61572-045-3 Jared is called home, his adoptive mother is dying. She’s a white witch who has kept a dark secret for a long time. At her death, Jared is left with this dark secret and haunted by a rapacious demon so powerful that he can’t be destroyed, only contained. And that isn’t working so well since his mother’s death. Unable to cope, Jared drinks himself into oblivion while his nightmares become reality. As he reaches out for help, he wonders if it will be enough and if it will be in time to stop a horrific evil from coming into this world. http://www.damnationbooks.com/book.php?isbn=9781615720460

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Look for these great titles by Kathryn Meyer Griffith, coming soon from Damnation Books.

Blood Forge

(Author’s Revised Edition)

Evil Stalks the Night

(Author’s Revised Edition)

The Calling

(Author’s Revised Edition)

The Last Vampire

(Author’s Revised Edition)

The Nameless One

(Author’s Revised Edition)

And from Eternal Press

The Woman in Crimson The Heart of The Rose

(Author’s Revised Edition)

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