Read Plain Fear: Forgiven: A Novel Online

Authors: Leanna Ellis

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Religion & Spirituality, #Fiction, #Romance, #Gothic, #Christian Books & Bibles, #Christian Fiction

Plain Fear: Forgiven: A Novel (10 page)

BOOK: Plain Fear: Forgiven: A Novel
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Chapter Twenty

Smoke rose from the candles like prayers, the flames wavering like his faith had over the years, until his had been completely snuffed out, the last red glowing ember cooling and turning black. But the tiny wicks and flickering flames around the church mocked him.

Years ago, Brydon lit a candle for his father, his mother holding his hand and guiding the flame to touch match to wick. The glow held his gaze until his eyes burned with unshed tears. His mother’s eyes filled and spilled over, her mouth quivering from a fresh round of grief.

It had been years since he was five years old. His mother had been gone since the year he graduated high school, but he had never lit a candle in her honor—never stepped over the threshold of a church until today.

Memories of his previous life in New Orleans wisped about him, thin as smoke, but they could not hold or bind him. He felt isolated, with no place to run, no one to turn to, no one to lean on. He hadn’t dared return to his hometown. They, whoever those vamps were, would know where he lived. They hadn’t been after Andi. They’d wanted him. And the reason couldn’t be good.

So he’d been forced into hiding. New York City seemed as good a place as any, where one could get sufficiently lost. The spires of St. Patrick’s drew him to the sanctuary as if the church could protect him, as if it had the answers he sought, and he’d run through the door, like a child throwing himself into his mother’s open arms.

His thoughts ran to the past, searching for answers and comfort. Yet it became more difficult to dredge up memories. Ryan Wynne had the late shift at the docks. He came in each morning, just as his wife left to drive Brody to school. He’d always carried a sack lunch in those days—ham and cheese sandwich, Little Debbie dessert. Then she went to her job at the hospital, helping sick folks. But that fateful winter morning, Brody heard the knock on the door. His mother was still applying her makeup and hollered, “Let your daddy in. He must have forgotten his keys again.”

But they never left for school that morning. His lunch box sat on the counter for days afterward. A policeman stood at the door. He’d had a stern face, but his throat had jerked upward at the sight of Brody, and he’d rearranged his features. The officer had knelt, his black leather belt and holster creaking. “Hey, buddy. Your momma home?”

There’d been a wreck. Years later, when Brody became a police officer, mostly because of that tall cop who’d shown some heart that day, he’d looked up the official paperwork on his father’s wreck. Ryan Wynne fell asleep at the wheel, rammed his Buick LeSabre straight into the grill of an eighteen-wheeler. DOA. Even the toxicology and autopsy reports couldn’t fully explain how a little boy lost his daddy.

Somehow, that incident had snuffed out Brody’s emotions. His heart atrophied over the years and felt dead. Maybe it was. Maybe that’s what allowed him to do the acts he now committed on a regular basis, acts he once would have considered hideous, vile, and obscene, but which now gave him life.

Unsure why or what for, he stood from the seat in the pew, which he’d occupied half the day, and walked as if in a trance to the table of candles. With a steady hand, he lit one candle when he should have lit a thousand. He breathed in the smoke and let it sear his lungs.

Covered in the breath of prayers, he once more took a seat, weary of the chase and the burden of loneliness. He had no prayers to offer. Who would he pray to anyway? He sat alone, not bothering to look at the tourists taking a tour of the cathedral, not even searching for the faces of those chasing him. Let them come. Let them take him right here. In this holy place. In an unholy act.

The day waned as he remained in one spot, waiting…waiting for what he didn’t even know. To be found? To receive an answer? An answer to his questions or his unspoken prayers? He wasn’t even sure.

A clearing of a throat garnered his attention. Brydon blinked. A darkly clad young man bent toward him. He wore a white collar and an apologetic expression. “The cathedral will be closing, sir, in a few minutes.”

Brydon rose, feeling stiff and hollow. He walked the long aisle toward the door and then disappeared into the evening crowds.

Chapter Twenty-One

Thunk.

Levi plunked the book onto the wooden bench. Samuel set down the broken tool he’d been trying to fix for the last half hour. The book cover looked familiar, one he’d checked out from the Cincinnati library. A book on occultist rituals. Last night, Samuel had read about the sanctity of blood and its many uses in spells and potions.

“What do you need, Levi?”

His oldest brother’s face held no tolerance. “Hannah found this in your bedroom.”

“What was she doing—?”

“It’s my house, Samuel. She was cleaning, not snooping. But it has her very upset.”

Samuel leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. He felt defensive, and he wasn’t sure why. “You too obviously.”

“Yes, me too. You don’t understand what you’re fooling with here.”

“It’s a book. Nothing more or less. I’m trying to understand what has happened in our lives to our brother.”

Levi took a calming breath and leaned heavily on a cane. “I understand, Samuel, more than you think I do. But what you don’t understand is that reading stuff like this is what took Jacob on the wrong path.
Finally, brethren
,” Levi took on a solemn tone as he quoted from the scriptures, “
whatsoever
things
are
true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things
.”

“Is that why you keep Jacob’s book in the barn?”

“I keep it there because it reminds my wife of difficult days.”

Samuel sniffed dismissively. “So you’re saying I should just think of roses and lilies and sunshine,
ja
? I shouldn’t try to understand how my brother went from being like you and me to dying at my own hand? How’d that happen, Levi?” Pressure built in his chest. “How did we get from there to here?”

Tears welled in Levi’s eyes. He looked older. Maybe it was the beard. Maybe it was simply the travails of life. He settled a hand on Samuel’s shoulder. “I wish I understood it all but I don’t. I never will. There are some things we’re not meant to understand. For some reason, Jacob was lured by all this evil. Hannah too was drawn to this darkness. Maybe we all are. Maybe it’s our pride, like in the Garden of Eden. Maybe we all want to be like God. But we aren’t God. And we can’t handle the temptation…or this evil. It will destroy us. Even looking at this”—he indicated the book—“turns my stomach. Why would Jacob continue on that path? Why didn’t he turn back?”

“Maybe he did,” Samuel said. “He came home. Remember?”

“But maybe it was too late. There are doors that should never be opened. There are consequences for our actions.”

“And what have we opened here?” Samuel asked, his voice cracking.
What
was
going
on
here
and
at
Roc’s? Why were there still secrets?
“What are you doing, Levi?”

“I’m trying to stay on the side of God. I’m battling evil.”

“But what exactly is evil, Levi? Some say religion and faith in God has led to more destruction than any other source. Religion started many wars and atrocities.”

“You know that’s not our beliefs, Samuel. Our God is true. Our God is a god of love, not destruction. But our God is also holy and demands holiness. And there is the devil. The Father of lies. He is God’s enemy.
Be
sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.

Samuel shrugged, uncomfortable sitting on the proverbial fence where he found himself. “I know the differences between faiths, between what we believe and what other faiths claim, but aren’t you doing the same as those who have done harm in the name of God? Don’t you feel led by God to make this so-called stand?”

“What’s right and wrong?” Levi spluttered out the words. His face darkened. “Samuel, I don’t decide. You don’t decide.
God
decides what’s right and wrong. I simply live by His laws. When you put yourself in God’s shoes and try to determine right and wrong for yourself, then you are in serious trouble and are further down that path than you want to be.”

Samuel stood and met Levi squarely, eye to eye. “Who are you to say what’s right and what’s wrong when you are the one lying to your family and neighbors? You weren’t raised this way, Levi. Does Pop know how you broke a rib? I sure don’t, but I don’t think it was feeding the chickens. Who else are you lying to? Hannah?”

“She knows,” Levi said, his voice soft but firm.

But Samuel wasn’t finished. “Is this the life you want to live, Levi? Are you so right that you can’t see the wrong in what you are doing?”

Levi took a breath and released it slowly. “Many…no, most wouldn’t understand. But, yes, I know the risk I am taking. I know the wrongs I’ve committed. You and I know the risk of not doing so. Would you have had me not do anything? Not help the woman I love from being devoured by that roaring lion? Or what about Roc? Should he have not gone after Rachel, not saved her? What would have happened to our family then?”

Samuel had no answer.

Levi took one step toward Samuel, leaning heavily on his cane. “There is a time, Samuel, when we all have to grow up.
When
I
was
a
child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

“You have choices, Samuel, as a man, that you must make now. Are you going to run, like our father did? Try to hide from the truth? Try to evade evil and ignore its existence? Are you going to keep reading this filth”—he nudged the book—“and follow in Jacob’s footsteps? Because if you are, I can guarantee the outcome.”

Samuel jerked his chin upward. “Are you going to kill me then?”

“It won’t matter if it’s me or Roc or someone else. But the end will be the same. And you don’t want that.” Levi placed a hand against his chest. “I don’t want that. You are playing with fire.”

Frustration boiled inside Samuel. “I am simply trying to understand.”

Levi picked up the book and placed it in Samuel’s hands. “Get rid of this. Only bad comes from it. I don’t want it in my house.”

“Are you telling me I can’t read it?”

For a long moment, Levi remained silent, as if gauging his answer. “It’s your decision. You’re a man, Samuel. But you cannot read this book or anything like it here in my house. Opening a door like this threatens my family.”

The fierceness in Levi’s eyes ended Samuel’s arguments. “Are you asking me to leave too?”

“No. No, I’m not.”
Was
Levi
convincing
himself?
“But maybe you need to spend more time at Roc’s. Maybe he can explain to you the dark side of evil. Maybe you can understand the battle we are in.
Be
strong
in
the
Lord, and in the power of his might. Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.

“I’m not sure that’s what they’re doing at Roc’s, Levi.”

“Go see more for yourself.”

***

The barn structure had been built recently and smelled of raw lumber. But the usual earthy odors of a conventional barn did not accompany Samuel as he followed Roc inside.

His last trip to Roc’s, Samuel had taken him up the cliff where he’d left his motorcycle, then, sharing a ride, Roc showed him another road to the training center. It was still far off the beaten path. It would be hard to find, even if someone was searching for it. The easy laughter and shared interest in motor vehicles had reestablished their friendship.

“Where’s that fancy car of yours you told me about, Roc?” Samuel had asked, hoping he could drive it.

Roc shook his head. “I sold it. I’m a family man now. Had to buy a kid-friendly car.”

Samuel had climbed aboard his motorcycle and revved his engine. “That’s a shame, Roc.”

“Go on, get out of here.” They’d shaken hands and agreed Samuel should return in a couple of days and learn more about the center.

Now, they walked through a room crowded with wooden cots stacked three high.

“Our dormitory,” Roc explained.

Samuel noted the beds were all made, the blankets tucked neatly around mattress corners. A row of lockers stood like soldiers. Then they passed a bathroom with showers and sinks, folded white towels, and an industrial-sized washer and dryer.

At the end of the room, they came to a door, which Roc opened. “This is our training facility.”

Samuel stared at the knotted ropes hanging from the rafters like long jungle vines. Storage shelves held not only boxes but also ropes, knives of all shapes and sizes, and stakes, the likes of which he’d seen Roc carry and use. An oversized gun case sported a sturdy wheel lock. Along another side of the building, weights and workout equipment took up considerable space. In another area, chairs gathered around a chalkboard.

“We start here each morning.” Roc indicated the few plastic chairs stacked and pushed against the wall. “Father Roberto takes care of us.”

“Just a few prayers,” the priest added, joining them on the tour, “along with confession and communion. We discussed it, Roc and I, before we began. Surprisingly, Roc agreed.”

“Not surprisingly,” Roc shot back. “Remember I’ve seen our enemy.” Roc’s gaze remained steady, not looking away with embarrassment. “The spiritual is as important as the physical, if not more so.”

“If you’re going to fight evil,” the priest added, “then your own soul should be purged and purified first.”

Samuel looked up at the rafters above as if they might hold the answers to his many questions. Thick boards bisected the ceiling. Pulleys were attached, and they held the dangling ropes, which were hanging as loose and wide apart as the statements Roc and Roberto were making. “I don’t understand. Who are you training and for what?”

“Those you met earlier.” Roc grabbed a clipboard and flipped through a few pages. “We’ve made a lot of progress, but we have much yet to do.”

Samuel huffed out an exasperated breath.

Roc looked up from the papers and burned Samuel with a heated gaze. “We’re fighting vampires.”

Vampires
. Even the word sent a chill through Samuel.
But
could
such
a
thing
exist?

“Exactly like we did in Ohio,” Roberto added almost nonchalantly, swiveling a chair around on one leg and then sitting on it like a cowboy riding a horse. He hooked his arms on the back of the chair. “But we’re taking better precautions this time. And our training has been more thought-out and organized.”

For months, Samuel had tried to push away the memories of the fight in Ohio, which ended with the death of his brother. Roc and Roberto had insisted the man Samuel killed was not Jacob because he was “changed.” He went by the name Akiva. But Samuel hadn’t wanted to listen. He hadn’t wanted to believe. He hadn’t wanted to think about any of this. And yet, at some base level of consciousness, he knew.

That horrific day, Samuel had brought the priest named Roberto from the bus station in Kentucky to his parent’s Ohio homestead. The moment they arrived, the priest warned Samuel to leave. “There’s imminent danger.”

“But—”

“Leave, Samuel! Go now. Quickly, before it’s too late.” The priest had rushed to a hiding place and worked his way toward the side of the house.

Samuel stood transfixed for a moment. His father would have demanded he leave. But he couldn’t. He thought of the pregnant Rachel in that house. And Roc.
Who
were
they
fighting? Who were they running from?
Samuel wondered.
What
would
happen
if
he
left? Could he live with himself if Rachel and Roc died? If her unborn baby never had a chance?
No. He had to stay and help if he could.
But
how?

He’d raced to the barn where Pop kept the rifles they used for hunting. His hands fumbled with the latch. Then someone grabbed him from behind and slammed him against a wall.

He must have blacked out because when he came to, his head pounding, he lay on the hay-strewn floor, his face pressed into the dirt. It had taken him a minute or two to reorient himself, each breath chasing the next, then he pushed himself into a sitting position. Light poured through the doorway, silhouetting a man he’d never seen before. He paced back and forth, in and out of sunlight, through shade and shadow, his footsteps agitated and brisk.

Samuel stood, but the barn tilted. He lurched toward the wall. A pail clattered.

The stranger whipped around, black eyes fixed on Samuel.

The world tipped sideways again, and he braced a hand against the wood-planked wall. It felt as if he was falling but never hitting bottom. “Who are you?”

Those black eyes bore into him, and Samuel felt as if flames licked his body. He heard himself cry out. Pain engulfed him with such intensity he thought he might black out again.

As quickly as the attack began, the man released him. Samuel’s legs gave out beneath him, and he plummeted to the floor. Then the man shrank into nothing and disappeared.

Since then, Samuel had read enough to truly know that evil existed and mystical things were possible. He’d read of depravity and wickedness. Maybe he’d even experienced a small token when he’d looked into that stranger’s black eyes and felt as if he was falling…falling into a deep pit.

“Levi knows about all of this?” he asked, looking around at the expansive building.

Roc nodded. “He helped build it.”

“Was that how he was hurt?”

BOOK: Plain Fear: Forgiven: A Novel
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