This Present Darkness (65 page)

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Authors: Frank Peretti

BOOK: This Present Darkness
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“I don’t know if I even dare go out in public. I guess the arrests of Busche and Hogan have a lot of people riled—
church
people, I might add! This rape charge hasn’t hurt Busche nearly as much as it was supposed to. Most of the people in the church are coming at
me
, wondering what
I’m
trying to pull!”

“You will be there,” she said plainly. “Oliver will be there, as will the others. And Sandy Hogan will be there.”

He spun and looked at her in horror. “What? Why is Sandy Hogan going to be there?”

“Insurance.”

Brummel’s eyes widened, and his voice trembled. “Another one? You’re going to kill another one?”

Her eyes grew very cold. “I do not kill anyone! I only let the masters decide!”

“So what have they decided?”

“You are to let Hogan know that his daughter is in our hands and that he would be very wise not to interfere with anything that happens
from this day forward.”

“You want
me
to tell him?”

“Mr. Brummel!” Her voice was chilling. She stepped toward him intimidatingly, and he backed up a few steps. “Marshall Hogan happens to be in your jail. You are in charge of him. You will tell him.”

With that, she stepped out the front door and went off to the college.

Brummel stood there for a moment, nonplussed, frustrated, afraid. His thoughts swam about like a school of frightened fish. He forgot why he was even in the kitchen.

Brummel, you’ve had it. What makes you think you’re not just as dispensable as anyone else the Society considers a commodity, a tool, a pawn? And, let’s face it, Brummel. You are a pawn! Juleen’s using you to do her dirty work, and now she’s setting you up as nothing less than an accessory to murder. If I were you, I’d start looking out for Number One. This whole plan will be found out sooner or later, and guess who’ll be caught holding the bag?

Brummel kept thinking about it, and his thoughts ceased to swim about. They all began to run in the same direction. This was madness, utter madness. The masters say this and the masters say that, but what’s it to them? They don’t have wrists that can be handcuffed, they don’t have jobs to lose, they don’t have faces they could be afraid to show around town someday.

Brummel, why don’t you stop Juleen before she totally ruins your life? Why don’t you stop all this madness and be a real, genuine lawman for once?

Yeah, thought Brummel. Why don’t I? If I don’t, we’re all going to sink on this crazy ship.

Lucius, the deposed Prince of Ashton, stood in the kitchen with Alf Brummel, the chief of police, having a little discussion with him. This Alf Brummel always was rather flimsy; perhaps Lucius could make use of this commodity.

 

JIMMY DUNLOP ARRIVED
at the courthouse at 7:30 Sunday morning, ready to begin his shift. To his surprise the parking lot was full of people: young couples, old couples, little old ladies; it looked like a
misplaced church picnic. Even as he pulled in, he could see every eye focusing on his policeman’s uniform. Oh, no! Now they were coming his way!

Mary Busche and Edith Duster recognized Jimmy right away; he was the young and very rude officer who turned them away from visiting Hank last night. Now they were right up at the head of this crowd, and although none of these people had any intention of doing anything rash or improper, they were not about to be trodden on.

Jimmy had to get out of his car whether he wanted to or not. He did have to report to work today.

“Officer Dunlop,” said Mary, quite brazenly, “I believe you told me last night that you would arrange for me to visit my husband today.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said, trying to push his way past.

“Officer,” said John Coleman respectfully, “we’re here to ask that you honor her request to see her husband.”

Jimmy was a police officer. He did represent the law. He had a lot of authority. The only problem was, he didn’t have any guts.

“Uh …” he said. “Listen, you’ll have to break up this gathering or face possible arrest!”

Abe Sterling stepped forward. He was an attorney who was a friend of a friend of an uncle of Andy Forsythe and he had been gotten out of bed last night and invited for just this occasion.

“This is a legal, peaceful gathering,” he reminded Jimmy, “according to the definition of RCS 14.021.217 and the decision rendered in Stratford County Superior Court in
Ames versus the County of Stratford.

“Yeah,” said several, “that’s right. Listen to the man.”

Jimmy was flustered. He looked toward the front door of the courthouse. Two officers from the Windsor precinct were guarding the fort. Jimmy walked toward them, wondering why they were letting this continue.

“Hey,” he asked them with a subdued voice, “what’s all this about? Why didn’t you get rid of these people?”

“Hey, Jimmy,” said one, “this is your town and your ball game. We figured you had the answers, so we told them to wait until you got here.”

Jimmy looked at all the faces looking back at him. No, ignoring this
problem would not make it go away. He asked the officer, “How long have all these people been here?”

“Since about 6. You should have been here then. They were having a regular church service.”

“And they can
do
that?”

“Talk to that lawyer of theirs. They have the right to peaceful demonstration as long as they don’t impede the regular conduct of business. They’ve been behaving themselves.”

“So what do I do now?”

The two officers only looked at each other somewhat blankly.

Abe Sterling was right behind Jimmy. “Officer Dunlop, you are within the law to hold a suspect for up to seventy-two hours without charges, but seeing as the suspect’s wife does have the right to contact her husband, we are ready to file suit in Stratford County Superior Court requiring you to appear and show just cause why she has been denied that right.”

“You hear that?” someone piped up.

“I’ll … uh … I’ll have to talk to the police chief …” Under his breath he was cursing Alf Brummel for getting him into this mess.

“Where is Alf Brummel, anyway? This is his
pastor
he’s thrown in jail,” Edith Duster declared.

“I—I don’t know anything about it.”

John Coleman said, “Then we as citizens are asking you to find out. And we would like to talk to Chief Brummel. Can you please arrange that?”

“I’ll—I’ll see what I can do,” Jimmy said, turning for the door.

“I wish to see my husband!” Mary said quite loudly, stepping forward with her jaw set firmly.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Jimmy said again, and ducked inside.

Edith Duster turned to the others and said, “Just remember, brothers and sisters, we are not contending against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.” She got several Amens to that, followed by someone starting a worship song. Immediately the whole Remnant took up the song and sang it loudly, worshiping God and making His praise heard in that parking lot.

 

RAFAR COULD HEAR
the praise from where he stood on the hill above the town, and he glowered at these saints of God. Let them whine over their fallen pastor. Their singing would be curtailed soon enough when the Strongman and his hordes arrived.

Countless spirits were arriving in the town of Ashton—but they were not the kind Rafar desired. They rushed in under the ground, they filtered in under the cover of occasional clouds, they sneaked in by riding invisibly in cars, trucks, vans, buses. In hiding places all over the town one warrior would be joined by another, those two would be joined by two more, those four would be joined by four. They too could hear the singing. They could feel the strength coursing through them with every note. Their swords droned with the resonance of the worship. It was the worship and the prayers of these saints that had called them here in the first place.

 

THE REMOTE VALLEY
was now a huge bowl of boiling, swirling ink accented by myriads of glowing, yellow eyes. The cloud of demons had multiplied so that it filled the valley like a boiling sea.

Alexander Kaseph, possessed by the Strongman, stepped out of his big stone house and got into his waiting limousine. All the papers were ready for signing; his attorneys would meet him at the Administration Building on the Whitmore College campus. This was the day he had waited and prepared for.

As the limousine carrying Kaseph—and the Strongman—made its way up the winding road, the sea of demons began to shift in that direction like the turn of the tide. The drone of countless billions of wings rose in pitch and intensity. Streams of demons began to trickle over the sides of the big bowl, flowing out between the mountain peaks like hot, sulfurous tar.

 

IN THE DARKROOM
at the
Ashton Clarion
, Bernice and Susan stood at the enlarger, looking down at the projected image of the negatives Bernice had just developed.

“Yes!” said Susan. “This is the first page of the college embezzlement records. You’ll notice the name of the college doesn’t appear anywhere. However, the amounts received should match exactly the amounts dispersed from the college records.”

“Yes, the records we have, or our accountant has.”

“See here? It’s been a pretty steady flow of funds. Eugene Baylor has been skimming and channeling college investments just a little at a time into various accounts elsewhere, every one of which is actually a front organization for Omni and the Society.”

“So the so-called investments have all been going into Kaseph’s pocket!”

“And I am sure they will comprise a substantial part of the monies Kaseph will use to buy the college out.”

Bernice moved the film forward again. Several frames of financial records rolled by in a blur.

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