Devil's Playground (26 page)

“Thank you,” he drawled. “I welcome you to the Holy Church of God.”

Again applause and cheers filled the arena. Someone yelled, “We love you, Reverend Billy.”

A young man walked on stage, handed Billy a Bible, and then retreated. Billy raised the book high over his head and waited theatrically for the crowd noise to diminish.

“This is the word of God,” he boomed.

A smattering of people, mostly those who had arrived with Reverend Billy, shouted back, “Amen.”

Again Billy bellowed, “Praise the Lord.”

“Amen.” The chorus grew louder as the enthusiasm of Billy’s shills infested their neighbors.

“Praise Jesus,” Billy thundered, waving the Bible over his head.

“Amen,” reflected the congregation with enough force to vibrate the ground.

Billy’s voice dropped to a whisper, causing silence to fall over the crowd. “The Lord is here. He is with you in your time of need. He awaits your call. He awaits the opening of your hearts.”

He wiped sweat from his face and stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket. He began to pace back and forth, the Bible in one hand, microphone in the other.

“But, someone else is here. Someone so evil, so vile, so black with hatred that he has transformed this community into a place of fear and sorrow. He is Satan.”

Billy’s voice began to rise.

“He and his disciple, Richard Earl Garrett, have seeped into your lives, stealing your souls, your happiness, your love. Your friends, your neighbors, your children.

His resonant voice rose higher still.

“You alone cannot cast him out. Only with the power of God can you remove this scourge from your lives.”

His voice became a booming clap of thunder. The Bible’s pages fluttered over his head as he swung it back and forth.

“You must open your hearts to Jesus and to God. You must confess your sins and beg for His forgiveness. Give Him your love and He will give you the strength to cast Satan out. He will fill your hearts with love and it is this love that Satan cannot overcome.”

“He’s good.” Sam said.

“Told you,” Nathan replied.

Reverend Billy launched into a passionate sermon of good versus evil while a dozen pretty young girls, including Blue Eyes, passed through the crowd collecting money in deep baskets. Apparently, God didn’t like ugly. A table in the corner of the tent stacked high with Bibles autographed and blessed by Reverend Billy, did a brisk business.

Billy removed his jacket, exposing a shirt soaked with the sweat of the Lord’s work, then resumed his pacing. The audience sat entranced as he pranced back and forth, his white mane reflecting the overhead lights, producing a halo around his face.

“We live in the time of Revelations. Few have read and fewer still understand this final book of God’s great work. It is difficult for most to believe such apocalyptic words, to believe that the war between God and Satan could reach such cataclysmic proportions. That the heavens and Earth could be so shaken and plunged into such despair. Surely mankind could not survive such a holocaust.”

He suddenly stopped, center stage, and impaled each member of the audience with his pale blue eyes. “But the book of Saint Matthew shows you the way. The path from this horror that has gripped your lives. The road to your salvation. Chapter 12.”

He opened the Bible and read.

“‘Then was brought unto Him one possessed with the devil and He healed him. And all the people were amazed and said ‘Is not this the son of David?’”

He raised his gaze and scanned the congregation. The silence that fell over the gathering lay as heavy as a damp woolen blanket.

Billy continued. “But the enemies of Jesus accused Him of being in the service of Satan. They said, ‘He doth not cast out devils but by Beelzebub the prince of the devils’.”

Beelzebub? The name hit Sam like a left hook. Garrett’s name for himself. When Garrett professed that Beelzebub was his Satan given name, Sam assumed he got it from Milton’s “Paradise Lost.” She had remembered the name from high school literature, mainly because she could never pronounce it. Now, here it was. From the mouth of Reverend Billy. From the Bible.

“But Jesus understood their ploy,” Billy continued, “and replied to them, ‘Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation and if Satan cast out Satan, he is divided against himself; how shall his kingdom stand? But, if I cast out devils by the spirit of God, then the kingdom of God is come unto you.’”

Billy held the Bible in his outstretched hand as if blessing the congregation, his voice rising to a crescendo.

“You must come to God and give him your hearts. Do not rely on the secular world for they are as Satan and cannot cast out themselves, their own kind. Your police, your judges, cannot expel Lucifer and his supplicants. Only you, through the power of God, can accomplish this task. Richard Earl Garrett and his disciples, who gather in the heart of your town, mocking your God, threatening your community, and killing your neighbors, must be expelled. Their hatred of God must be expunged.”

He walked to the front of the stage, spread his arms, and looked down on the wide-eyed audience. His voice rumbled up from his thick chest and cascaded over them. “Come to the Lord. Give to God and to Jesus and to me your hearts and your souls and ye shall be saved. I will annul Satan’s power. I will root out Beelzebub’s legions. I will return the kingdom of God to you. Join with me. Pray with me.”

The choir burst into the “Hallelujah Chorus” once again. Electric excitement sizzled through the crowd as Reverend Billy descended from the stage like Moses from Mount Sinai. The crowd surged forward, engulfing him. They eagerly tried to touch his hand, his clothing, anything for contact with the man who was surely God’s messenger.

“Hell, I almost believe him,” Sam said.

“They do.” Nathan nodded toward the commotion that surrounded Reverend Billy.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Sam exhaled audibly.

Billy glanced at them, altered his course through the throng and approached.

“Deputy Cody, so nice of you to come.”

“Quite a show, Reverend.”

“Thank you.” He turned his high beam smile on her, his blue eyes alive. She half-expected a twinkle or two to appear. He turned to Nathan. “Mister Klimek. What a pleasure to see you again.”

“Really? I didn’t think you were one of my fans.”

“The Hobart incident? All in the past. The Lord has great capacity for forgiveness.”

“I know He forgives. Do you?”

“Mister Klimek, I won’t let you bait me into a disagreement. Not tonight. Tonight belongs to the Lord. There are serious matters afoot and the very life of this community depends upon what we do here. The Lord has called upon me to save these people and I will not be deterred nor deflected from that task.”

“Do you preach all the time?” Sam asked. “Or can you have a normal conversation?”

His eyes became twin icebergs, his jaw tightened. “I assure you, Deputy Cody, I can converse in any manner you wish.”

“Great. After you finish counting your money, why don’t we have a chat? Say a half hour. Your place.”

“I would be delighted.”

He turned and plowed into the crowd, his smile erupting again.

“I don’t like that son-of-a-bitch,” Sam said.

“I’d say the feeling is mutual,” Nathan said. “Want me to go with you?”

“Are you going to protect me from Reverend Billy?” Sam teased.

“It’s not Billy that I’d worry about. Carl Angelo, his bodyguard, is a different story.”

“I think I’ve seen him. Black beard? Built like a brick shit house?”

“That’s him. And he doesn’t have a sense of humor, either.”

“Oh?”

“He trashed a camera and a cameraman in Hobart.”

“That’s what this is for,” Sam said, patting the .357 that lay against then small of her back. “I’ll be OK. But thanks for the offer.”

“You sure?”

“I’d better do this alone. Besides, if I shoot the bastard, I’d hate to drag you into it as witness.”

“OK.” Nathan shook his head, smiling. “I’ll wait for you, anyway. Maybe we could have coffee afterward.”

“Strive ever for souls, for the Domain of Lucifer is forever.”

“Hail, Lucifer.”

“Love nothing so strongly that you cannot watch it die.”

“Hail, Lucifer.”

“All that is worthy is built on a bed of sorrow and pain.”

“Hail, Lucifer, Prince of Darkness.”

The nightly ritual completed, Penelope sat cross-legged on the rock from which she had led the ceremony. She faced the nearly full moon, which hung high in the clear night sky and cast a pearlescent glow over the valley. While the others huddled around a campfire, talking, laughing, sharing joints, Penelope watched from her perch. Melissa mounted the rock and sat next to her.

She handed Penelope a joint and Penelope took a deep hit, holding the smoke in her lungs for a minute, then releasing it in a cloud. She took another hit and passed the joint back to Melissa. The marijuana’s soothing warmth flowed through her, creating a familiar numbing of the senses.

Melissa lay her head against Penelope’s breast and Penelope stroked the younger girl’s hair. They swayed gently, sinking deeper into tranquility.

Penelope watched the others as they hugged and caressed one another. She loved them. They were her family. How she had become the head of their family, their leader, their high priestess, she didn’t know. Others had been with the group longer or were better versed in the Satanic rituals, but somehow they seemed to gravitate to her.

She accepted the mantle of high priestess reluctantly. She had never seen herself as a leader, especially a spiritual leader, but with time the role became more comfortable. Now, she relished it. She could be the mother she had wanted her mother to be.

Melissa kissed her cheek. “I love you.”

Penelope smiled at her. “I love you, too.”

Penelope had been with every member of the group at one time or another, but she and Melissa bonded in a way she had never experienced. They became inseparable. The group tended to frown on long term relationships because of the obvious petty jealousies and conflicts that could develop. They preferred a more casual approach to sex. Yet, Penelope and Melissa were viewed differently and their pairing was not only accepted, but also encouraged.

Penelope looked into Melissa’s eyes, their deep emerald color gilded by the campfire’s glow. She gently brushed a wisp of hair behind Melissa’s ear. “I’m so lucky to have you,” she said.

Melissa smiled. “I thought I was the lucky one.”

Their lips met and they held each other tightly, exploring with knowing hands, each welcoming the other’s touch. They stretched out on the rock, which still held the remnants of the day’s sun. They kissed and caressed each other with growing fervor. Melissa lifted Penelope’s black dress and skipped kisses and butterfly licks across her flat stomach, nipping at her soft curls, finding her moist recesses. Penelope inhaled with staccato whimpers as raw electric impulses flashed through her. She arched her back and entwined her fingers in Melissa’s hair, riding the vortex of pleasure that threatened to consume her. 

Once she had recovered her senses, Penelope stood and led Melissa to one of the vans, where they shed their clothes and lay spooned against each other. Penelope wrapped her arms around Melissa and they began a slow, sensuous undulation, body sliding against body. Penelope kissed her cheek and neck as her fingers trailed across Melissa’s breasts, taut belly, and lower. She parted the delicate lips and caressed the sensitive flesh within. Melissa gasped and clutched Penelope’s hand, pulling the probing fingers against her, within her. Their rhythmic dance gained intensity. Melissa’s breathing became heavy, thick, spasmodic as she rode wave after wave of pleasure. Unable to bear another orgasmic swell, she pushed Penelope’s hand away and turned to her.

“You make me crazy,” she whispered, her voice husky with the remnants of passion.

“I hope so.”

Penelope cupped Melissa’s face in her hands and pulled her lips to hers. They kissed tenderly, then dissolved into each other’s embrace. Soon, their breathing synchronized and they drifted to sleep.

Penelope descended into a velvety blackness. She dreamed she was adrift on a river of warm liquid that soothed and relaxed her. At first, she didn’t sense the bright colors that nipped at the edges of her dream world.

Sam and Nathan sat with Charlie near the back of the tent and talked, occasionally breaking off their conversation to chat with people who stopped by. The choir continued to sing and the hum of conversation filled the arena, as did the buzz of free enterprise. People continued to purchase Bibles and trinkets and stuff money into the baskets pushed at them by Billy’s followers. Billy was going to make out like a bandit, Sam thought.

She had checked her watch, which moved at a glacial pace, a half dozen times before thirty minutes finally elapsed. She stood. “I’m going to go have that little chat with Billy. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Better you than me,” Charlie said. “I’m out of here. This much religion makes me tired.” He waved as he headed toward the exit.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Nathan asked.

“No. But, if you hear gunfire, call 911.”

She stepped out of the tent into the night air. A northerly wind had kicked up, plunging the temperature into the low forties. A chill knifed into her, pushing her already foul mood further toward full-fledged anger. She yanked the zipper of her leather jacket high around her neck. Great, not only did she have to face God’s messenger, but God himself. She shoved her hands into her pockets and circled the tent toward Reverend Billy’s bus.

Billy’s round, grinning face towered over her from the flank of his sleek, silvery, expensive motor coach. The images’ steel blue eyes seemed to follow her every step as she approached. She rapped on the door, which immediately swung open, revealing the woman who had introduced Billy earlier.

“I’m Belinda Connerly, Reverend Billy’s personal secretary. Please. Come in.” Though she smiled sweetly, her voice carried a hostile edge. Probably from past run-ins with the law, Sam decided.