The Messenger (2011 reformat) (30 page)

"Demons
serve him, the most unspeakable things..."

"Leave...me...alone..."

"I told
you, I'm a seer. I can see heaven and I can see hell. They both exist, they
very much exist."

Jane opened
her mouth to scream for help but a final look into those huge empty eyes
paralyzed her.

She could see
someone there, deep beyond his gaze.

"He's
waiting for you," Dhevic said. "Your husband. Matt."

Jane dropped
the phone.

"Can you
see him? You can see him, can't you? He's waiting for you-in heaven..."

"I can,
she realized. It's him.

Matt was
smiling at her, standing in an aura of tranquil bluish white.

When Dhevic
blinked, the vision snapped.

"But
someone else is waiting for you too. He will manipulate you through your fears,
your weaknesses, and your dreams. Don't fall to his seduction, Ms. Ryan.
Aldezhor. The Messenger."

Jane screamed
at the image-that thing looking back at her in Dhevic's gaze. Then the image
whited out. When the scream had ripped out of her throat, she teetered against
the wall. "Jane? Jane?" Several employees had rushed into the room to
help her.

Dhevic was
gone.

I

Jane felt sick
to death driving out of the west branch lot. Dhevic, Dhevic, Dhevic, the name
kept pounding in her mind. And those things he'd said? Those things he'd shown
her?

She didn't
know what to think now, or what to believe.

All she knew
was this: I have to tell Steve.

The nausea began
to abate once she got out on the main road, opened the car windows, and let the
air blow on her face. Yes, she needed to talk to Steve, but what would she say?
And what would he say in response? I can't go in there and tell him that Dhevic
is an augur, for God's sake! A bell from hell? A fallen angel named Aldezhor? I
can't tell him that! I can't tell him Dhevic showed me visions of heaven and
hell! He'll think I'm nuts!

But what had
she seen, really? She rolled over every conceivable explanation. Hypnosis, the
power of suggestion under stress, simple gullibility in the face of a very good
liar and actor. But why? Why would Dhevic go to all that trouble? He'd known
that she was involved with Steve, and he'd known her dead husband's name, but
that could all be explained logically. He could've seen her and Steve together.
He could've read her husband's obituary a long time ago. Not too difficult. But
again it made no sense. What purpose could Dhevic have in wanting her to
believe this?

Unless it's
true, was the only answer she could come up with.

She cleared
her mind of the whole mess, took deep breaths, and drove straight to the
Danelleton police station. I'll figure out what I'm going to say when I say it,
she decided. She parked in the visitor's lot and was taking long strides into
the clean red-brick building. Cops milled about at the booking desk, several
nodded or said hello. Then a sergeant was politely directing her to the proper
hallway. A wave of relief swept her when she saw the sign on the door:
Chief
Steven Higgins
. The door was ajar. She raised her hand to knock but paused.
Movement caught her eye, and something else.

A scent.

Perfume? she
thought.

She put her
eye to the gap in the door and looked in.

Steve was
standing behind his desk, his jacket off, his shoulder holster and gun draped
over the chair. There was someone standing next to him, and at first Jane was
too shocked for the image to register. Every excuse flowed through her mind:
Don't freak out, don't jump to conclusions. It's a civilian employee, a clerk,
a secretary or someone. Maybe it's a police officer in plainclothes. Maybe it's
someone from the town council or the mayor's office.

It was
someone, all right.

A woman. A
statuesque blonde in a beige pinstripe business woman's suit, long toned legs,
high heels, a short skirt.

They seemed to
be whispering. Then Steve put his arms around the woman. She returned the
gesture and they embraced. It was a long, even intimate embrace. Jane thought
she was feeling sick earlier, when she'd seen Dhevic. Now, in an instant, she
felt ten times more nauseated.

The last thing
she saw was Steve kissing the woman.

Jane's heart
felt wrenched out of her chest. Part of her wanted to storm into the office and
start yelling but.

No. That's not
me. She would've loved to put him on the spot, ruin everything for him with
this other woman, wreck his day just as he'd wrecked hers. Throw a tirade right
there in his office, a real Jerry Springer-type fracas. But then she thought a
minute more and realized how useless that would be.

I've been had,
that's all, she thought. It happens all the time. Men do this to women every
day-I should've seen it coming. Instead I set myself up. Just turn around and
walk away.

Jane looked
back inside. Steve and the blonde were still embracing.

She turned
around and walked away.

"Sometimes
you make me feel like I'm just some big muscular moron," Dan said.

Sarah smirked.
"Dan, I hate to tell you this, but you are a big muscular moron." She
stood aside, arms crossed, watching his biceps bulge as he lifted one box of
letters after another off the collator rack and slid them into the take-away
shelves.

Thanks, thanks
a lot," he said.

"Dan,
there's nothing wrong with being a big muscular moron." Now she actually
had to chuckle.

"Yeah, and
look at you. I guess your beach bunny days are over, now that you're the big
boss around here."

"I'm not
the boss, Jane is. I'm just the new DPS manager. True, I'm your boss. I'm the
boss of everyone who works in the DPS station. But that's not really the point,
is it?"

Dan was big, a
weight lifter. Blond hair, dark tan, rugged-the perfect Florida mold. He wiped
sweat off his brow with a brawny arm, then laughed, a laugh of defeat.
"Yeah, there she is, little Miss DPS Manager, arms crossed, tapping her foot,
watching the big dumb moron load letter boxes. Supervising, right? Making sure
the job gets done right. Making sure the big muscular moron doesn't screw up.
Well, let me tell you something. I do my job. I don't screw up. And if you
don't want to date me anymore, that's fine." His pecs and biceps flexed
again when he lifted the next box. It was a little overdramatic; he didn't have
to flex them so tightly, but he just wanted her to see. He knew the kind of  guy
she went for, and he was it. "Plenty of girls in this town who'd be happy
to date a guy like me."

"Dan,
Dan, what is this date business all of a sudden? We never dated! We can't
date-it's against postoffice policy for employees of the same office to be
romantically involved."

He shook his
head in more frustration. "Look, all I know is I walk in here and ask you
what time we're getting together tonight, and you pull this stuff. We've been
going out for almost a year. To me, that's dating."

"No, Dan,
that's two friends fooling around. We were the same pay level and had the same
time in grade. All that's changed now."

"Yeah,
since your big promotion. All of a sudden Sarah the Party Animal becomes Sarah
the Responsible Manager. Gimme a break. You're such a hypocrite, it's almost
funny. Christ, I can't believe how much you've changed in the last two
days."

"Oh, poor
little Danny Boy getting a little insecure. Big tough Danny Boy doesn't like
the idea that a woman two years younger than him is now his supervisor."

"That's
got nothing to do with it. Some people are for real, some people aren't. You
aren't."

"Poor
little Danny Boy's masculinity is being shattered. The big strong muscleman
can't hack being a subordinate to a hundred-and-twenty-pound woman-"

"Shut up.
You're being stupid."

Dan loaded
more boxes, in silence. Sarah just smiled. Yes, she had changed a lot in the
last two days. She'd been blessed. The Messenger had shown her just how
"for real" she truly was. He'd given her strength when before there'd
only been weakness and vulnerability. Thank you, she thought dreamily.

She could feel
him behind her-the Messenger- right up close next to her, his ethereal hands
roving her body, stimulating her for what was to come. His desires merged with
hers, a perfect state of sharing. She could never be this close to anyone else.

"Yeah,
yeah, that's just fuckin' grand," Dan complained out of his silence.
"You can't date me anymore since you got your big, high-falutin'
promotion. Jesus Christ, Sarah, you spent the night with me last night. We made
love..."

Sarah couldn't
resist. "You call that making love? Don't make me laugh, Dan. I hate to
tell you this, but I get more action from a cucumber."

Dan grit his
teeth, bit away the anger. "What the hell are you talking about? You came
like Halley's comet."

Again, Sarah
couldn't resist. "Yeah, it took you seventy-five years to get me
off." She stood back and watched, watched his anger boil up, watched his
face redden. Dan was the kind of guy who had nothing beyond his macho image.
His identity existed in his physical body, and in the cliche that women desired
him because of it.

Sarah always
hated that cliche; it offended her. But before her indoctrination by the
Messenger, she'd been victimized by it herself, for her entire adult life. Now
she had changed. Now she was different. Now she was strong.

Dan made her
sick. His muscles, his tan, his good looks. It challenged her. He thought he
was superior to women.

It was time
for her to-

Do something
about that, the Messenger whispered into her mind.

"I
will," she said.

Dan looked up
from another box. "You will, what?"

"Nothing,
Danny Boy. Just keep flexing those muscles. Just keep thinking that you're
God's gift to women. You gotta have something to keep that pea brain
going."

He faced her,
standing upright. "You really are trying me, aren't you?"

"What are
you gonna do, Dan? Hmm?"

"I'm
gonna do my job-I'm gonna do it well, like I always do-then I'm gonna go home
and chalk this one up to experience. I don't know what your mind game is,
Sarah, and I don't want to know. You're just a high-horse bitch who thinks
she's better than everyone because she just got a pissant one-level raise. So
why don't you go powder your fuckin' nose or something? I've got work to
do."

The Messenger
caressed her; Sarah sighed. Now her master was walking her forward toward Dan,
outstretching her arms.

"What the
hell is wrong with you?" Dan said, but he had no time to say anything more
because Sarah hopped up on the table, wrapped her legs around him, and yanked
his face to hers. She kissed him as if famished. Bewildered, he kept trying to
pull away but her arms just kept getting tighter, and soon he was lost in her
again. He just gave up and kissed her back.

Sarah and the
Messenger loved to play with people.

"I don't
get it," he said between kisses. "You're nuts. First you're giving me
a ton of shit, and then...this..."

Sarah's hand
slid up and down over his groin, feeling him through his post office shorts.
When she felt him aroused she said, "What did you just say? You've got
work to do?"

"Yeah,"
he replied, sucking her neck.

"Well,
why don't you do it, instead of slacking?"

Dan pulled
back, glaring at her.

"Instead
of coming on to me, you should be sorting the letter mail."

"Coming
on to you!" he almost shouted. "You came on to me!"

"Come on,
Dan. I ought to write you up for this. Sexually harassing your supervisor-"

Enraged, he
tried to push away again, but her legs wouldn't unwrap. When he grabbed her
knees and tried to pull her legs apart, they didn't budge. Dan was a very
strong man, so this puzzled him.

"You're
just trying to set me up, you bitch," he breathed. "You're crazy. I'm
gonna file a complaint about you."

Sarah
chuckled. "Don't bother; it won't be taken seriously. I was going to fire
you anyway-"

"For
what?"

"Dan, you
know what your job is. Everyday when you're done sorting the letter mail,
you're supposed to maintain the central collation machine, and I know for a
fact you haven't done that all week."

"Bullshit!"

"We've
gotten a lot of complaints this week about letters getting torn by the machine.
That means it's not calibrated right, doesn't it?"

Anger was
bulging the veins in his forehead. "Yeah, that's what it means, but that
hasn't happened. I clean the collator every day!"