A Prayer for the Devil (40 page)

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Authors: Dale Allan

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BOOK: A Prayer for the Devil
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Like a trained assassin, Fatih quickly scanned the room, looking for his victim. When his eyes met Luke’s, he smirked and slowly raised his gun, confident that this would be an easy kill. Desperate, Luke one-handedly grabbed the box of Blade’s ashes from the nightstand and hurled it at Fatih with all his strength, still forcing down the skylight switch with his other hand. All those years of baseball pitching finally paid off; his aim was perfect. The box hit Fatih squarely in the head and unexpectedly popped open, filling the air with ashes. The room went dark. Luke could barely make out the bright moon through the skylight above him. He knew his cell phone was on the bed, and taking advantage of the darkness, he desperately began running his hands over the covers in an attempt to find it. Finally, feeling it but unable to see the display, he fumbled for the send button, knowing that Detective Romo had been the last person he called. He pushed it twice.

Hoping that the skylight had opened enough for him to escape, he jumped on the bed and reached through the opening, pulling his body up with his arms. When he was halfway out, he began hearing shots and saw flashes of light in the dust as Fatih began blasting aimlessly.

Crouching down on the bow of the boat, he saw Vincent’s lifeless body. The white deck was covered with deep red blood. Luke could clearly see the bullet hole in Vincent’s forehead, and when he moved closer he was horrified to see that the entire back of Vincent’s head was gone. In anguish, he stood and ran to the small railing surrounding the bow. Hearing another shot, his heart pounded as he saw Fatih halfway out of the skylight, pointing the gun directly at him. He had no choice but to jump. Looking quickly at the frozen water, he didn’t
hesitate. He pushed off hard enough to reach the thick ice, away from the boat’s aerated perimeter. Landing hard, he felt the wind knocked out of him. As he struggled to recover, he saw Fatih’s monstrous eyes looking down at him from the boat. Staggering up, he began running full speed away from the yacht. Suddenly, he felt a burning sensation in his left hamstring; he knew he was hit. He reached down to grab his leg and confirmed what he already knew. His hand was drenched in blood.

He heard a loud grunt behind him as Fatih landed on the ice. Terrified, Luke looked back to see that Fatih was catching up. With his injured leg he was no match, and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he was dead. He pleaded to God for help. Knowing that Fatih was just feet behind him, he was puzzled that he hadn’t yet shot. Suddenly, he saw Fatih’s gun slide past him on the slick ice. Bewildered, he stopped and turned. Fatih had somehow fallen through the same ice that Luke had just run across. Each time Fatih tried to hoist himself out, the ice around him fractured as if it were paper thin. Snatching the gun at his feet, Luke pointed it at Fatih, who was screaming in agony in the freezing water. Thinking about Aaron’s death and overcome with anger, Luke aimed at Fatih’s head and slowly squeezed the trigger.

Immediately consumed with remorse, Luke flung the gun away, extended his arms, and began to plead for forgiveness both for himself and Fatih. Interrupted by the sound of a nearby helicopter, he took off his belt and pulled it tightly around his upper thigh. Dizzy from fear, the cold air, and loss of blood, Luke staggered toward shore but fell and passed out after taking a few steps.

 
 

LUKE’S EYES FLUTTERED OPEN
. He was surprised to see Deborah, not God. She was sitting in a chair, bent over, with her head lying on the side of his hospital bed. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he quietly watched her sleep and wondered what had happened. Hearing him stir, she gradually opened her eyes, which immediately filled with tears when she saw him looking back at her. Quickly standing, she shoved her chair aside and leaned over to hug him, carefully making sure that she didn’t disturb the needles and tubes in his arms.

When she released her grasp, he mumbled, “Is everyone safe?” Tears fell from her eyes as she said, “Everyone except for Vincent and the cabdriver Fatih killed.” Luke was still groggy from anesthesia, but he silently wept as he thought about his friend from the Cape. A nurse walked into the room and excitedly asked, “How long has he been awake?”

“About five minutes,” Deb answered.

The nurse bent down and said, “Father Luke, it’s a true honor to have you in our hospital.”

Confused, he simply said, “Thank you.”

As the nurse walked out, Luke was surprised to see a police officer standing by the doorway.

“Deborah, what’s going on? How long have I been here?”

She smiled. “You were brought here last night. It’s late afternoon now. They had to operate on your leg, but everything is going to be fine.”

Tired and groggy, he closed his heavy eyes again.

 

The next time Luke awakened, his parents were in the room. Uncharacteristically, his father came over to the side of his bed and grabbed his hand. No words were spoken, but the expression on his father’s face alone was enough to assure Luke that all the past disapprovals and disappointments in him were gone. His mother looked on, crying tears of joy that her husband had finally forgiven her youngest son.

Out of nowhere, Luke asked, “Is he dead?”

They didn’t have to ask who he was talking about. Luke’s father spoke up. “Your brother’s killer is alive, but the cops have him and he will pay.”

Still exhausted, Luke closed his eyes again.

 

The next morning, Luke was feeling stronger as he lay in bed and watched the sun rise outside his window. He reached for the television remote and pressed the power button several times, but it wouldn’t turn on. When a nurse walked in he said, “Good morning, do you know when I can get out of here?”

“No, but the doctor will be in to see you sometime this morning.”

He tried the remote again. “Also, can you please have my television turned on?”

She hesitated and stammered, “I’m sorry. The orders were for no TV.”

Before Luke could question her, she quickly hurried out. Again, he noticed a police officer outside his room.

 

A few hours later, Deborah appeared, and Luke asked, “Deb, what’s going on? They won’t let me watch TV.”

She sighed and leaned over to press the call button by his bed. Immediately, Luke’s private nurse, Tasha, arrived, and Deborah asked, “Can you please help me move his bed to the window?”

They carefully positioned his bed so he could see and drew back the drapes. Looking out the window, Luke was amazed.

 
 

A CROWD HAD GATHERED
on the street in front of the hospital. Police cars lined the entrances. It looked like the last time the pope had visited Boston. Innocently, Luke asked, “What are they doing here?”

Tasha and Deb looked at each other and laughed. Tasha said, “They’re all here to see you!”

Confused, he asked, “For catching Fatih?”

Deborah explained, “Luke, you’re a national hero.”

“What do you mean?”

Ignoring his question, she said, “Monsignor Swiger and the bishop are waiting to see you.”

“The bishop? What does he have to do with this?”

Ignoring him again, Deborah opened the door and the two men rushed to Luke’s bedside.

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